• 


NEW  YORK      R.  H.  RUSSELL     PUBLISHES 


University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


The  Theodore  H.  Koundakjian 

Collection 
of  American  Humor 


BOSEPHUS   AND    HORATIO 


THE  ARKANSAW  BEAR 

A  TALE  OF  FANCIFUL  ADVENTURE 

TOLD 
IN  SONG  AND   STORY  BY 

ALBERT  BIGELOW  PAINE 

IN    PICTURES    BY 

FRANK  VER  BECK 


NEW  YORK:  R.  H.  RUSSELL 

LONDON: 
KEGANPAUL,TRENCH,TRUBNER&  CO. 

MDCCCXCVIII 


COPYRIGHT,     1898,    BY 

ROBERT  HOWARD  RUSSELL 

Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


DEDICATION 

TO  MASTER   FRANK  VER   BECK, 

FOR  WHOSE 

BEDTIME   ENTERTAINMENT 

THE   ARKANSAW  BEAR 

FIRST   PERFORMED 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  The  Meeting  of  Bosephus  and  Horatio  .  1 1 

II  The  First  Performance  .     .     .    ...     .     »  20 

III  Horatio  and  the  Dogs     .     ....     .  29 

IV  The  Dance  of  the  Forest  People        .     .  38 
V  Good-bye  to  Arkansaw  .    •..     .     .     .     ,  46 

VI  An  Exciting  Race     .      .     .     .     .     ,     .  55 

VII  Horatio's  Moonlight  Adventure    .     .     .  64 

VIII  Sweet  and  Sour     .     .     .     .     .      .      .     .  73 

IX  In  Jail  at  Last       .     .     .     *     •     .     .     .  83 

X     An  Afternoon's  Fishing 92 

XI     The  Road  Home 101 

XII  The  Bear  Colony  at  Last.    The  Parting 

of  Bosephus  and  Horatio        .     .      .  1 1 1 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  MEETING  OF  BOSEPHUS  AND  HORATIO 


"Oh,  'twas  down  in  the  woods  of  the  Arkansaw, 
And  the  night  was  cloudy  and  the  wind  was  raw, 


B 


And  he  didn't  have  a  bed  and  he  didn't  have  a  bite, 
And  if  he  hadn't  fiddled  he'd  a  travelled  all  night." 

OSEPHUS  paused  in  his  mad  flight  to  listen.  Surely 
this  was  someone  playing  the  violin,  and  the  tune  was 
familiar. 

He  listened  more  intently. 

"But  he  came  to  a  cabin  and  an  old  gray  man, 
And  says  he,  'Where  am  I  going?    Now  tell  me  if  you  can '  " 

It  was  the  "Arkansaw  Traveller"  and  close  at  hand.  The 
little  boy  tore  hastily  through  the  brush  in  the  direction  of  the 
music.  The  moon  had  come  up,  and  he  could  see  quite  well, 
but  he  did  not  pause  to  pick  his  way.  As  he  stepped  from  the 
thicket  out  into  an  open  space  the  fiddling  ceased.  It  was 


12  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

bright  moonlight  there,  too,  and  as  Bosephus  took  in  the  situa 
tion  his  blood  turned  cold. 

In  the  center  of  the  open  space  was  a  large  tree.  Backed 
up  against  this  tree,  and  looking  straight  at  the  little  boy,  with 
fiddle  in  position  for  playing,  and  uplifted  bow,  was  a  huge 
Black  Bear! 

Bosephus  looked  at  the  Bear,  and  the  Bear  looked  at 
Bosephus. 

"Who  are  you,  and  what  are  you  doing  here?"  he  roared. 

"I — I  am  Bo-se-Bosephus,  an'  I — I  g-guess  I'm  1-lost!" 
gasped  the  little  boy. 

"Guess  you  are!"  laughed  the  Bear,  as  he  drew  the  bow 
across  the  strings. 

"An-an'  I  haven't  had  any  s-supper,  either." 

"Neither  have  I!"  grinned  the  Bear,  "that  is,  none  worth 
mentioning.  A  young  rabbit  or  two,  perhaps,  and  a  quart  or  so 
of  blackberries,  but  nothing  real  good  and  strengthening  to 
fill  up  on."  Then  he  regarded  Bosephus  reflectively,  and  began 
singing  as  he  played  softly: — 

"Oh.  we'll  have  a  little  music  first  and  then  some  supper,  too. 
But  before  we  have  the  supper  we  will  play  the  music  through." 

"No  hurry,  you  know.  Be  cool,  please,  and  don't  wiggle 
so." 

But  Bosephus,  or  Bo,  as  he  was  called,  was  very  much  dis 
turbed.  So  far  as  he  could  see  there  was  no  prospect  of  supper 
for  anybody  but  the  Bear. 

"You'll  forget  all  about  supper  pretty  soon,"  continued  the 
Bear,  fiddling. 

"You'll  forget  about  your  supper— you'll  forget  about  your  home— 
You'll  forget  you  ever  started  out  in  Arkansaw  to  roam." 

"My  name  is  Horatio,"  he  continued.  "Called  Ratio  for 
short.  But  I  don't  like  it.  Call  me  Horatio,  in  full,  please." 


•MAYBE  YOU  CAN  PLAY  IT  YOURSELF. 


14  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

"Oh,  ye-yes,  sir!"  said  Bo,  hastily. 

"See  that  you  don't  forget  it !"  grunted  the  Bear.  "I  don't 
like  familiarity  in  my  guests.  But  I  am  clear  away  from  the 
song  I  was  singing  when  you  came  tearing  out  of  that  thicket. 
Seems  like  I  never  saw  anybody  in  such  a  hurry  to  see  me  as  you 
were, 

"Now  the  old  man  sat  a-fiddling  by  the  little  cabin  door, 
And  the  tune  was  pretty  lively,  and  he  played  it  o'er  and  o'er; 
And  the  stranger  sat  a.-list'ning  and  a-wond'ring  what  to  do, 
As  he  fiddled  and  he  fiddled,  but  he  never  played  it  through." 

Bo  was  very  fond  of  music,  and  as  Horatio  drew  from  the 
strings  the  mellow  strains  of  "The  Arkansaw  Traveller"  he  for 
got  that  both  he  and  the  Bear  were  hungry.  He  could  dance 
very  well,  and  was  just  about  to  do  so  as  the  Bear  paused. 

"Why  don't  you  play  the  rest  of  that  tune,  Horatio?"  he 
asked,  anxiously. 

"Same  reason  the  old  man  didn't !"  growled  the  Bear,  still 
humming  the  air, 

"Oh,  raddy  daddy  dum— daddy  dum— dum— dum 

"Why!"  continued  Bo,  "that's  funny!" 

"Is  it?"  snorted  Horatio;  "I  never  thought  so! 

"Then  the  stranger  asked  the  fiddler  'Won't  you  play  the  rest  for  me?' 
'Don't  know  it,'  says  the  fiddler,  'Play  it  for  yourself!'  says  he " 

Maybe  you  can  do  what  the  stranger  did,  Bosephus — maybe  you 
can  play  it  yourself,  eh?"  grunted  the  huge  animal,  pausing  and 
glowering  at  the  little  boy. 

"Oh,  no,  sir — I — I — that  is,  sir,  I  can  only  wh-whistle  or 
s-sing  it!"  trembled  Bo. 

"What!" 

"Y-yes,  sir.    I " 

"You  can  sing  it?"  shouted  the  Bear,  joyfully,  and  for  once 
forgetting  to  fiddle.  "You  don't  say  so!" 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  15 

"Why,  of  course!"  laughed  Bo;  "everybody  in  Arkansaw 
can  do  that.     It  goes  this  way: — 


"Then  the  stranger  took  the  fiddle,  with  a  ridy-diddle-diddle, 
And  the  strings  began  to  jingle  at  the  tingle  of  the  bow, 


While  the  old  man  sat  and  listened,  and  his  eyes  with  pleasure  glistened, 
As  he  shouted  'Hallelujah!  And  hurray— for— Joe!'  " 

When  Bo  had  finished,  Horatio  stood  perfectly  still  for 
some  moments  in  astonishment  and  admiration.  Then  he  came 
up  close  to  the  little  boy. 

"Look  here,  Bo/'  he  said,  "if  you'll  teach  me  to  play  and 
sing  that  tune,  we'll  forget  all  about  that  sort  o'  personal  supper 
I  was  planning  on,  and  I'll  take  you  home  all  in  one  piece.  And 
anything  you  want  to  know  I'll  tell  you,  and  anything  I've  got, 
except  the  fiddle,  is  yours.  Furthermore,  you  can  call  me  Ratio, 
too,  see? 

'Oh,  ridy-diddy,  diddy-diddy • 

how  does  it  go?     Give  me  a  start,  please." 

Bo  brightened  up  at  once.  He  liked  to  teach  things  im 
mensely,  and  especially  to  ask  questions. 

"Why,  of  course,  Ratio,"  he  said,  condescendingly;  "I  shall 
be  most  happy.  And  I  can  make  up  poetry,  too.  Ready, 
now : — 

"I  am  glad  to  be  the  teacher  of  this  kind  and  gentle  creature, 
Who  can  play  upon  the  fiddle  in  a " 

"Wait,  Bo!  wait  till  I  catch  up!"  cried  Horatio,  excitedly. 
"Now!" 

"Hold  on,  Ratio.     I  want  to  ask  a  question!" 


1 6  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

"All  right!  Fire  away!  I  couldn't  get  any  further  any 
how." 

"Well,"  said  Bo,  "I  want  to  know  how  you  ever  learned  to 
play  the  fiddle." 

Horatio  did  not  reply  at  first,  but  closed  his  eyes  reflec 
tively  and  drew  the  bow  across  the  string  softly. 

"Oh,  raddy  daddy  dum— daddy  dum— dum— dum 

"I  took  a  course  of  lessons,"  he  said,  presently,  "but  it  is  a  long 
story,  and  some  of  it  is  not  pleasant.  I  think  we  had  better  go 
on  with  the  music  now: — 

"Oh,  there  was  a  little  boy  and  his  name  was  Bo, 
Went  out  into  the  woods  when  the  moon  was  low, 
And  he  met  an  Old  Bear  who  was  hungry  for  a  snack, 
And  his  folks  are  still  awaiting  for  Bosephus  to  come  back." 

"Go  right  on  with  the  rest  of  it,"  said  Bo,  hastily. 

"For  the  boy  became  the  teacher  of  this  kind  and  gentle  creature, 
Who  can  play  upon  the  fiddle  in  a  very  skilful  way." 

"But  I  say,  Ratio,"  interrupted  Bo  again,  "how  did  it  come 
you  never  learned  to  play  the  second  part  of  that  tune?" 

Horatio  scowled  fiercely  at  first,  and  then  once  more  grew 
quite  pensive.  He  played  listlessly  as  he  replied : — 

"Ah,"  he  said,  "my  teacher  was — was  unfortunate.  He 
taught  me  to  play  the  first  part  of  that  tune.  He  would  have 
taught  me  the  rest  of  it — if  he  had  had  time." 

Horatio  drew  the  bow  lightly  across  the  strings  and  began 
to  sing,  in  a  far-away  voice: — 

"Oh,  there  was  an  old  man,  and  his  name  was  Jim, 

And  he  had  a  pet  bear  who  was  fond  of  him; 

But  the  man  was  very  cruel  and  abusive  to  his  pet, 

And  one  day  his  people  missed  him,  and  they  haven't  found  him  yet." 

"Oh!"  said  Bo;  "and  w-what  happened,  Horatio?" 

Horatio  paused  and  dashed  away  a  tear. 

"It  happened  in  a  lonely  place,"  he  said,  chewing  reflective- 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  17 

ly,  "a  lonely  place  in  the  woods,  like  this.  We  were  both  of  us 
tired  and  hungry  and  he  grew  impatient  and  beat  me.  He  also 
spoke  of  my  parents  with  disrespect,  and  in  the  excitement  that 
followed  he  died." 

"Oh!"  said  Bo. 

"Yes,"  repeated  Horatio,  "he  died.  He  was  such  a  nice 
man — such  a  nice  fat  Italian  man,  and  so  good  while — while  he 
lasted." 

"Oh!"  said  Bo. 

Horatio  sighed. 

"His  death  quite  took  away  my  appetite,"  he  mused.  "I 
often  miss  him  now,  and  long  for  some  one  to  take  his  place.  I 
kept  this  fiddle,  though,  and  he  might  have  been  teaching  me  the 
second  part  of  that  tune  on  it  now  if  his  people  hadn't  missed 
him — that  is,  if  he  hadn't  been  impatient,  I  mean." 

"Oh,  Ratio!"  said  Bo,  "I  will  teach  you  the  tune  all 
through!  And  I  will  never  be  the  least  bit  impatient  or — or 
excited.  Are  you  ready  to  begin,  Ratio?" 

"All  ready!     Play." 

"Oh,  it's  fine  to  be  the  teacher  of  a  kind  and  gentle  creature 
WTio  can  play  upon  the  fiddle  in  a  very  skilful  way, 
And  I'll  never,  never  grieve  him,  and  I'll  never,  never  leave  him, 
Till  I  hear  the  rooster  crowing  for  the  break— of— day." 

"That  was  very  nice,  Bo,  very  nice  indeed!"  exclaimed 
Horatio,  as  they  finished.  "Now,  I  am  going  to  tell  you  a  se 
cret." 

"Oh!"  said  Bo. 

"I  have  a  plan.  It  is  to  start  a  colony  for  the  education  and 
improvement  of  wild  bears.  But  first  I  am  going  to  travel  and 
see  the  world.  I  have  lived  mostly  with  men  and  know  a  good 
deal  of  their  taste — tastes,  I  mean — and  have  already  travelled 
in  some  of  the  States.  After  my  friend,  the  Italian,  was  gone,  I 
tried  to  carry  out  his  plans  and  conduct  our  business  alone.  But 


1 8  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

I  could  only  play  the  first  part  of  that  tune,  and  the  people 
wouldn't  stand  it.  They  drove  me  away  with  guns  and  clubs. 
So  I  came  back  to  the  woods  to  practice  and  learn  the  rest  of 
that  music.  My  gymnastics  are  better — watch  me." 

Horatio  handed  Bo  his  fiddle  and  began  a  most  wonderful 
performance.  He  stood  on  his  head,  walked  on  his  hands, 
danced  on  two  feet,  three  feet,  and  all  fours.  Then  he  began 
and  turned  somersaults  innumerable.  Bo  was  delighted. 

"It  wasn't  because  you  couldn't  play  and  perform  well 
enough!"  he  cried,  excitedly.  "It  was  because  you  went  alone, 
and  they  thought  you  were  a  crazy,  wild  bear.  If  I  could  go 
along  with  you  we  could  travel  together  over  the  whole  world 
and  make  a  fortune.  Then  we  could  buy  a  big  swamp  and  start 
your  colony.  What  do  you  say,  Ratio?  I  am  a  charity  boy,  and 
have  no  home  anyway!  We  can  make  a  fortune  and  see  the 
world!" 

At  first  Ratio  did  not  say  anything.  Then  he  seized  Bo  in 
his  arms  and  hugged  him  till  the  boy  thought  his  time  had  come. 
The  Bear  put  him  down  and  held  him  off  at  arm's  length,  joy 
ously. 

"Say!"  he  shouted.  "Why,  I  say  that  you  are  a  boy  after 
my  own  heart!  We'll  start  at  once!  I'll  take  you  to  a  place  to 
night  where  there  are  lots  of  blackberries  and  honey,  and  to 
morrow  we  will  set  forth  on  our  travels.  Here's  my  hand  as  a 
guarantee  of  safety  as  long  as  you  keep  your  agreement.  You 
mean  to  do  so,  don't  you?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Bo. 

"And  now  for  camp.     We  can  play  and  sing  as  we  go." 

As  the  little  boy  took  Horatio's  big  paw  he  ceased  to  be 
even  the  least  bit  afraid.  He  had  at  last  found  a  strong  friend, 
and  was  going  forth  into  the  big  world.  He  had  never  been  so 
happy  in  his  life  before. 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  19 

"All  right,  Ratio!"  he  shouted.    "One,  two,  three,  play!" 
And  Ratio  gave  the  bow  a  long,  joyous  scrape  across  the 
strings,  and  thus  they  began  their  life  together — Bosephus  whis 
tling  and  the  Bear  playing  and  singing  with  all  his  might  the 
fascinating  strains  of  "The  Arkansaw  Traveller": — 

"Oh,  there  was  a  little  boy  and  his  name  was  Bo, 

Went  out  into  the  woods  when  the  moon  was  low, 

And  he  hadn't  had  his  supper  and  his  way  he  didn't  know, 

So  he  didn't  have  a  bite  to  eat  nor  any  place  to  go. 

Then  he  heard  the  ridy-diddle  of  Horatio  and  his  fiddle, 

And  his  knees  began  to  tremble  as  he  saw  him  standing  there; 

Now  they'll  never,  never  sever,  and  they'll  travel  on  forever— 

Bosephus,  and  the  fiddle,  and  the  Old— Black— Bear." 


CHAPTER  II 

THE     FIRST     PERFORMANCE 


"Oh,  'twas  down  in  the  woods  of  the  Arkansaw 
I  met  an  Old  Bear  with  a  very  nimble  paw; 


He  could  dance  and  he  could  fiddle  at  the  only  tune  he  knew, 
And  he  fiddled  and  he  fiddled,  but  he  never  played  it  through." 


i 


O  was  awake  first,  and  Horatio  still  lay  sound  asleep. 
As  the  boy  paused  the  Bear  opened  one  eye  sleepily 
and  reached  lazily  toward  his  fiddle,  but  dropped  asleep 
again  before  his  paw  touched  it.  They  had  found  a 
very  cosy  place  in  a  big  heap  of  dry  leaves  under  some  spread 
ing  branches,  and  Horatio,  though  fond  of  music,  was  still  more 
fond  of  his  morning  nap.  Bosephus  looked  at  him  a  moment 
and  began  singing  again,  in  the  same  strain : — 

"Then  there  came  a  little  boy  who  could  whistle  all  the  tune, 
And  he  whistled  and  he  sang  it  by  the  rising  of  the  moon; 
And  he  whistled  and  he  whistled,  and  he  sang  it  o'er  and  o'er, 
Till  Horatio  learned  the  music  he  had  never  learned  before." 

The  Bear  opened  the  other  eye.  and  once  more  reached  for 
his  fiddle.  This  time  he  got  hold  of  it,  but  before  his  other  paw 
touched  the  bow  he  was  asleep  again.  Bo  waited  a  moment. 
Then  he  suddenly  began  singing  to  the  other  part  of  the  tune: — 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  21 


"Yes,  he  learned  it  all  so  neatly  and  he  played  it  all  so  sweetly 
That  he  fell  in  love  completely  with  the  boy  without  a  home; 


And  he  said.  'No  matter  whether  it  is  dark  or  sunny  weather 
We  will  travel  on  together  till  the  cows— come— home.'  " 

Before  Bosephus  finished  the  first  two  lines  of  this  strain 
Horatio  was  sitting  up  straight  and  fiddling  for  dear  life. 

"Once  more,  Bo,  once  more!"  he  shouted  as  they  finished. 

They  repeated  the  music,  and  Horatio  turned  two  hand 
springs  without  stopping. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "we  will  go  forth  and  conquer  the  world." 

"I  could  conquer  some  breakfast  first,"  said  Bo. 

"Do  you  like  roasting  ears?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Bo. 

"Well,  I  have  an  interest  in  a  little  patch  near  here — that 
is,  I  take  an  interest,  I  should  say,  and  you  can  take  part  of  mine 
or  one  of  your  own  if  you  prefer.  It  really  doesn't  make  any 
difference  which  you  do  just  so  you  take  it  before  the  man  that 
planted  it  is  up." 

"Why,"  exclaimed  the  boy  as  they  came  out  into  a  little 
clearing,  "that  is  old  Zack  Todd's  field!" 

"It  is,  is  it?  Well,  how  did  old  Zack  Todd  get  it,  I'd  like  to 
know." 

"Why — why  I  don't  know,"  answered  Bo,  puzzled. 

"Of  course  not,"  said  the  Bear.  "And  now,  Bosephus,  let 
me  tell  you  something.  The  bears  owned  that  field  long  before 
old  Zack  Todd  was  ever  thought  of.  We're  just  renting  it  to 
him  on  shares.  This  is  rent  day.  We  don't  need  to  wake  Zack 


— 


ONCE    MORE,     BO,    ONCE    MORE  " 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  23 

up.  You  get  over  the  fence  and  hand  me  a  few  of  the  best  ears 
you  can  get  quick  and  handy,  and  you  might  bring  one  of  those 
watermelons  I  see  in  the  corn  there,  and  we'll  find  a  quiet  place 
that  I  know  of  and  eat  it." 

Bo  hopped  lightly  over  the  rail  fence,  and,  gathering  an 
armful  of  green  corn,  handed  it  to  Horatio.  Then  he  turned  to 
select  a  melon. 

"Has  Zack  Todd  got  a  gun,  Bosephus?"  asked  the  Bear. 

"Yes,  sir-ee.  The  best  gun  in  Arkansaw,  and  he's  a  dead 
shot  with  it." 

"Oh,  he  is.  Well,  maybe  you  better  not  be  quite  so  slow 
picking- out  that  melon.  Just  take  the  first  big  one  you  see  and 
come  on." 

"Why,  Zack  wouldn't  care  for  us  collecting  rent,  would  he?" 

"Well,  I  don't  kniow.  You  see,  some  folks  are  peculiar 
that  way.  Zack  might  forget  it  was  rent  day,  and  a  man  with  a 
bad  memory  and  a  good  gun  can't  be  trusted.  Especially  when 
he's  a  dead  shot.  There,  that  one  will  do.  Never  mind  about 
his  receipt — we'll  mail  it  to  him." 

Bo  scrambled  back  over  the  fence  with  the  melon  and  has 
tened  as  fast  as  he  could  after  Horatio,  who  was  already  moving 
across  the  clearing  with  his  violin  under  one  arm  and  the  green 
ears  under  the  other. 

"Wait,  Ratio,"  called  the  little  boy.    "This  melon  is  heavy." 

"Is  that  a  long  range  gun,  Bo?"  called  back  the  Bear. 

"Carries  a  mile  and  a  half." 

"Can't  you  move  up  a  little  faster,  Bo?  I'm  afraid,  after  all, 
that  melon  is  bigger  than  we  needed." 

The  boy  was  fat  and  he  panted  after  his  huge  companion. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  sharp  report,  and  Bosephus  saw  a  lit 
tle  tuft  of  fur  fly  from  one  of  his  companion's  ears.  Horatio 
dodged  frantically  and  dropped  part  of  his  corn. 


CONQUERING  THE  WORLD. 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  25 

"Run  zigzag,  Bo!"  he  called,  "and  don't  drop  the  melon. 
Run  zigzag.  He  can't  hit  you  so  well  then,"  and  Horatio  him 
self  began  such  a  performance  of  running  first  one  way  and 
then  the  other  that  Bo  was  almost  obliged  to  laugh  in  spite  of 
their  peril. 

"Is  this  what  you  call  conquering  the  world,  Ratio?" 
Then,  as  he  followed  the  Bear's  example,  he  caught  a  backward 
glimpse  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye. 

"Oh,  Ratio,''  he  called,  "the  whole  family  is  after  us.    Zack 
Todd,  and  old  Mis'  Todd,  and  Jim,  and  the  girls." 

"How  many  times  does  that  gun  shoot?" 

"Only  once  without  loading." 

"Muzzle  loader?" 

"Yep,"  panted  Bo.    "Old  style." 

"Good!  Hold  on  to  that  melon.  We'll  get  to  the  woods 
yet." 

But  Horatio  was  mistaken,  for  just  as  they  dashed  into  the 
edge  of  the  timber,  with  the  pursuers  getting  closer  every  mo 
ment,  right  in  front  of  them  was  a  high  barbed-wire  fence  which 
the  Todd  family  had  built  around  the  clearing  but  a  few  days 
before.  The  Bear  dropped  his  corn,  and  the  boy  carefully,  but 
with  some  haste,  put  down  the  melon.  Then  they  turned.  The 
Todd  family  was  just  entering  the  woods — old  Zack  and  the 
gun  in  front.  He  had  loaded  it  and  was  putting  on  the  cap  as 
he  ran. 

"What  shall  we  do,  Bo,  what  shall  we  do  now?"  groaned 
Horatio. 

The  situation  was  indeed  desperate.  Their  pursuers  were 
upon  them,  and  in  a  moment  more  the  deadly  gun  would  be 
levelled.  Suddenly  a  bright  thought  occurred  to  Bo. 

"I  know,"  he  shouted;  "dance!  Horatio!  dance!" 


'DANCE!    HORATIO,   DANCE!' 


The  Arkansaw  Bear 


27 


Horatio  still  had  his  fiddle  under  his  arm.  He  threw  it  into 
position  and  ran  the  bow  over  the  strings.  In  a  second  more  he 
was  playing  and  dancing,  and  Bo  was  singing  as  though  it  were 
a  matter  of  life  and  death,  which  indeed  it  was: — 


"Oh,  there  was  a  fine  man  and  a  mighty  fine  gun 

And  a  Bear  that  played  the  fiddle  and  a  boy  that  couldn't  run. 


And  the  boy  was  named  Bosephus  and  Horatio  the  Bear, 
And  they  couldn't  find  a  bite  to  eat  for  breakfast  anywhere." 

The  Todd  family  stood  still  at  this  unexpected  perform^ 
ance  and  stared  at  the  two  musicians.  Old  man  Todd  leaned 
his  gun  against  a  tree. 

"Now  they  couldn't  buy  their  breakfast  for  their  money  all  was  spent, 

So  they  dropped  into  a  cornfield  to  collect  a  little  rent; 

But  they  only  took  a  melon  and  an  ear  of  corn  or  so, 

Aaid  were  going  off  to  eat  them  where  the  butter  blossoms  grow." 

The  Todd  family  were  falling  into  the  swing  of  the  music. 
Old  Mis'  Todd  and  the  girls  were  swaying  back  and  forth  and 
the  men  were  beating  time  with  their  feet.  Suddenly  Bosephus 
changed  to  the  second  part  of  the  tune. 


"But  the  old  man  got  up  early  with  a  temper  rather  surly, 

And  he  chased  them  with  his  rifle  and  to  catch  them  he  was  bound; 


Till  he  heard  the  ridy-diddle  of  Horatio  and  his  fiddle, 

Then  he  shouted,  'Hallelujah,  girls,  and  all— hands— 'round!'  " 

The  first  line  of  this  had  started  the  Todd  family.     Old 
Zack  swung  old  Mis'  Todd,  and  Jim  swung  the  girls.     Then  all 


28  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

joined  hands  and  circled  to  the  left.  They  circled  around  Bo- 
sephus  and  Horatio,  who  kept  on  with  the  music,  faster  and 
faster.  Then  there  was  a  grand  right  and  left  and  balance  all — 
every  one  for  himself — until  they  were  breathless  and  could 
dance  no  more.  Horatio  stopped  fiddling  and  when  old  man 
Todd  could  catch  his  breath  he  said  to  Bo : — 

"Look  a-here;  that  Bear  of  yours  is  a  whole  show  by  him 
self,  and  you're  another.  Anybody  that  can  play  and  sing  like 
that  can  have  anything  I've  got.  There's  my  house  and  there's 
my  cornfield;  help  yourselves." 

Bo  thanked  him  and  said  that  the  corn  and  the  melon  al 
ready  selected  would  do  for  the  time.  To  oblige  them,  how 
ever,  he  would  take  up  a  modest  collection.  He  passed  his  hat 
and  received  a  silver  twenty-five  cent  piece,  a  spool  of  thread 
with  a  needle  in  it,  a  one-bladed  jack-knife  and  two  candy  hearts 
with  mottoes  on  them — these  last  being  from  the  girls,  who 
blushed  and  giggled  as  they  contributed.  Then  he  said  good- 
by,  and  the  Todd  family  showed  them  a  gate  that  led  into  the 
thick  woods.  As  the  friends  passed  out  of  sight  and  hearing 
Bosephus  paused  and  waved  his  handkerchief  to  the  girls.  A 
little  later  Horatio  turned  to  him  and  said,  impressively: — 

"That  is  what  I  call  conquering  the  world,  Bosephus.  We 
began  a  little  sooner  and  more  abruptly  than  I  had  expected, 
but  it  was  not  badly  done,  and,  all  things  considered,  you  did 
your  part  very  well,  Bosephus;  very  well  indeed." 


CHAPTER   III 

HORATIO     AND     THE    DOGS 


"Blossom  on  the  bough  and  bird  on  the  limb — 
Old  Black  Bear  sits  a-grinning  at  him; 


H 


Sawing  on  his  fiddle  and  a-grinning  at  the  jay— 
Grinning  as  he  saws  the  only  tune  that  he  can  play." 

ORATIO  leaned  back  against  the  tree  and  played 
lazily.  Bosephus  lay  stretched  full  length  on  the 
leaves,  following  idly  with  any  words  that  happened  to 
fit  the  strain.  A  blue  jay  just  over  their  heads  bobbed 

up  and  down  on  a  limber  branch,  waiting  for  them  to  go.    The 

Bear  took  up  the  song  as  the  boy  paused: — 

"Boy  on  the  bank  and  bird  on  the  tree — 
Bird  keeps  a-bobbing  and  a-blinking  at  me; 
Bobbing  and  a-blinking,  and  a-waiting  for  a  bite— 
Hasn't  had  a  thing  to  eat  since  late— last— night." 

"I  say,  Ratio,"  interrupted  Bo.  "Suppose  we  move  on  and 
give  Mr.  Jay  Bird  a  chance?" 

Horatio  grunted  and  rose  heavily.  After  their  adventure 
with  the  Todd  family  they  had  come  to  a  pleasant  spot  in  the 
woods  by  a  clear  stream  of  water.  Bo,  who  had  some  matches 
in  his  pocket,  had  kindled  a  fire  and  roasted  some  of  the  corn, 
much  to  the  disgust  of  Horatio,  who  disliked  fire  and  asked  him 
why  he  didn't  roast  the  watermelon,  too,  while  he  was  about  it. 


30  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

Then  they  had  eaten  their  breakfast  together  and  taken  a  brief 
rest  before  setting  forth  again  on  their  travels.  A  jay  bird  was 
waiting  to  peck  the  gnawed  ears  and  melon  rinds.  He  stared  at 
the  strange  pair  as  they  strolled  away  through  the  trees/  the 
Bear  continuing  his  favorite  melody. 

"Ratio,"  said  Bo,  pausing  suddenly,  "what  is  that  I  hear 
scurrying  through  the  bushes  every  now  and  then?" 

"Friends  of  mine,  likely." 

"Friends!     What  friends?" 

"Oh,  everything,  most.  Wild  cats,  wolves,  foxes  and  a  few 
wild  bears,  maybe." 

"Wildcats!     Bears!     Wolves!" 

"Why,  yes.  Often  when  I  play  in  the  moonlight  they  come 
out  and  dance  for  me." 

"Oh!"  said  Bo. 

'  "I  have  them  all  dancing  together,  sometimes.     I'll  have 
them  dance  for  you  before  long." 

"Oh,  Ratio,  will  you?" 

"Yes.  It's  a  lot  of  fun,  but  there's  no  money  in  it,  and 
that's  what  we're  after  now,  Bo.  We're  going  to  buy  that 
swamp,  you  remember,  and  start  that  bear  colony." 

Bosephus  was  about  to  reply  when  Horatio  paused  and  lis 
tened.  There  was  the  distant  sound  of  dogs  barking. 

"Hello!"  said  Bo.  "We're  coming  to>  somewhere.  Now 
we'll  give  our  first  regular  performance.  Come  on,  Ratio!" 

Horatio  hesitated. 

"How  many  dogs  do  you  suppose  there  are,  Bo?"  he  asked 
anxiously. 

"About  a  dozen,  I  should  think,  big  and  little." 

"Little  dogs,  Bo?     Little  snapping  dogs?" 

"That's  what  it  sounds  like,  and  some  hounds  and  a  big  dog 
or  two.  You  don't  mind  dogs,  do  you?" 


f 


"HELLO!"  SAID  BO,  "WE'RE  COMING  TO  SOMEWHERE.' 


32  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

"Oh,  no,  not  in  the  least — but  it's  most  too  soon  after 
breakfast  to  give  a  performance,  and  besides,  all  that  noise 
would  spoil  the  music." 

But  the  little  boy,  who  still  had  in  his  pocket  the  two'  candy 
hearts  that  had  been  given  to  him  by  the  Todd  girls,  walked 
ahead  proudly. 

"You  trust  to  me!"  he  said,  flourishing  a  large  stick.  "I'll 
stop  their  noise  pretty  quick.  I'm  not  afraid  of  dogs!" 

The  Bear  followed  some  steps  behind,  looking  ahead  warily. 

"I'm  not  afraid,  either,  you  know,"  he  said,  anxiously. 
"Only  when  there  are  so  many  of  them  they  get  me  mixed  up 
on  my  notes  and  one  of  them  once  had  the  ill  manners  to  nip 
quite  a  piece  out  of  my  left  hind  leg." 

Presently  they  came  into  an  open  space  and  plump  upon  a 
little  crossroads  village.  A  gang  of  dogs  gambolled  upon  the 
common,  chasing  stray  geese  and  barking  loudly.  Horatio 
paused. 

"Come  back,  Bo,"  he  whispered.  "There's  no  money  in 
that  crowd." 

But  Bosephus  was  already  some  distance  ahead,  stick  in 
hand,  and  the  dogs  had  spied  him.  They  ceased  barking  for  a 
moment  and  two  or  three  of  the  larger  ones  ran  away.  Then 
the  little  dogs  began  yelping  again  and  came  on  in  a  swarm.  Bo 
made  at  them  with  his  stick,  but  they  dodged  past  him,  and  in 
a  moment  more  were  circling  and  snapping  around  Horatio, 
who  was  waving  his  violin  wildly  with  one  paw  and  slapping  like 
a  man  killing  mosquitoes  with  the  other. 

"Quick,  Bo!"  he  shouted.    "Quick!    Help!    Murder!" 

The  little  boy  wanted  to  laugh,  but  ran  up  instead  and  be 
gan  striking  among  the  bevy  of  dogs  that  were  torturing  his 
friend.  Some  of  them  howled  and  ran  off  a  few  paces.  Then 
they  came  flocking  back.  Suddenly  Horatio  thrust  his  violin 


The  Arkansaw  Bear 


33 


into  Bo's  hand  and  ran  swiftly  toward  a  large  tree  a  few  yards 
distant.  The  curs  followed  and  jumped  high  into  the  air  after 
him  as  he  scrambled  up  to  the  lower  limbs. 

Bosephus  hurried  after  them  and  struck  at  them  so  fiercely 
with  his  club  that  they  ran  yelping  away.  A  number  of  villag 
ers,  attracted  by  the  commotion,  were  now  appearing  from  all 
quarters. 

"Here  come  the  people,  Ratio,"  said  Bo,  grinning.  "Now 
we  can  perform." 

"All  right,  Bo,"  whispered  the  Bear,  "but  if  you'll  kindly  hand 
me  up  that  fiddle  I  believe  I'll  perform  right  where  I  am." 

The  boy  passed  up  the  violin  and  the  Bear  struck  a  few 
notes.  By  this  time  the  people  had  collected.  There  was  a 
blacksmith  with  a  leather  apron,  and  a  painter  with  all  colors 
of  paint  on  his  clothes.  Behind  them  there  came  a  woman 
with  dough  on  her  hands  and  another  carrying  a  baby.  Other 
men  and  women  followed  in  the  procession,  and  a  dozen  or  so 
children  of  all  ages.  They  halted  a  little  way  from  the  tree  and 
stood  staring.  Horatio  sat  astride  a  big  limb  and  commenced 
playing.  Suddenly  the  boy  threw  back  his  head  and  began  to 
sing:— 

"Oh,  the  dogs  barked  loud  and  the  dogs  barked  low 

And  the  boy  stood  still  and  the  Bear  climbed  the  tree, 

At  an  Old  Black  Bear  and  a  boy  named  Bo. 

While  the  people  came  a-running  to  see  what  they  could  see." 

The  children  drew  up  close  at  the  first  line  and  held  their 
breath  to  listen.  As  the  boy  paused  they  shouted  and  screamed 
with  laughter  at  the  sight  of  Horatio  fiddling  in  the  forks  of 
the  tree.  The  dogs  sat  in  a  row  and  howled  plaintively. 

"Sing  some  more,"  cried  the  woman  with  the  baby;  "it 
amuses  my  little  Joey." 


BOSEPHUS  HURRIED  AFTER  THEM  AND  STRUCK  AT  THEM. 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  35 

"Yes,  the  people  came  to  see  them  and  the  dogs  they  ran  away, 
And  the  boy  began  to  sing  and  the  Bear  began  to  play, 
Till  it  tickled  all  the  children  and  it  made  the  baby  crow, 
And  it  set  the  people  dancing  till  they  jumped— Jim— Crow." 

"More!  more!"  shouted  the  people  as  they  formed  into 
cotillons  and  reels.     "Sing  us  some  more!" 


"Oh.  the  ridy-diddle-diddle  of  Horatio  and  his  fiddle, 
And  the  singing  of  Bosephus  they  had  never  heard  before; 


And  it  set  them  all  to  spinning,  and  the  music  was  so  winning 
That  they  wined  them  and  they  dined  them  until  half  past  four!" 

"Wait!  wait!"  called  the  woman  with  the  baby  under  her 
arm,  "I'm  all  out  of  breath/" 

"No,  no!"  shouted  the  children  and  all  the  others.  "Go  on! 
Goon!" 

So  once  more  and  yet  another  time  the  unwearied  mu 
sicians  repeated  their  performance,  and  then  Bo  politely  passed 
his  hat  to  the  dancers.  When  he  had  been  to  each  one  his  hat 
was  heavy  with  some  money  and  many  useful  articles. 

"Bring  your  Bear  down  out  of  the  tree,"  said  the  black 
smith,  "and  we  will  give  you  a  feast  on  the  common." 

Bo  beckoned  to  Horatio  to  climb  down,  but  the  big  fellow 
hesitated. 

The  temptation  of  a  feast,  however,  was  too  much  for  him. 

That  night,  when  they  had  both  danced  again  for  the  peo 
ple  and  Horatio  had  given  them  an  acrobatic  exhibition,  they 
strolled  away  through  the  evening  loaded  down  with  luxuries  of 
all  kinds.  The  villagers  went  with  them  to  the  outskirts,  and 
called  good  luck  after  them.  As  they  passed  into  the  quiet 


ONCE  MORE  AND  YET  ANOTHER  TIME. 


The  Arkansaw  Bear 


37 


shadows  of  the  forest  they  once  more  heard  the  barking  of  dogs 
in  the  distance  behind  them. 

"We  have  had  a  good  day,  Bosephus,"  said  Horatio,  with  a 
long  sigh  of  satisfaction.  "We  are  on  the  road  to  fortune.  To 
be  sure,  there  are  little  thorns  along  the  way — " 

"Dogs,  for  instance — and  guns." 

"Trifles,  Bosephus;  trifles.  Don't  give  them  a  second 
thought.  Of  course  you  are  only  a  little  boy  as  yet,  an<d  will 
outgrow  these  fears." 

"And  learn  to  climb  trees." 

"I  hope  you  don't  think  I  climbed  that  tree  out  of  fear,  Bo 
sephus.  I  merely  went  up  there  to  get  a  better  view  of  my  au 
dience.  One  should  always  rise  above  his  audience.  And  now 
let  us  sing  softly  together  as  we  go.  It  will  rest  us  after  our  day 
of  conquest." 

And  touching  the  strings  lightly  and  singing  softly  to 
gether,  the  friends  sought  leisurely  their  evening  camp.  Here 
and  there  a  light  rustle  in  the  bushes  showed  that  the  forest  peo 
ple  were  listening,  and  the  leaves  of  the  forest  whispered  in  time 
to  their  melody. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  DANCE    OF  THE  FOREST  PEOPLE 

ft 


"Oh!  the  night  was  warm  and  the  moon  was  bright, 
And  we  pitched  our  camp  in  the  pale  moonlight; 


In  the  pale  moonlight  and  the  green,  green  shade, 

And  we  counted  up  together  all  the  money  we  had  made.' 


i 


HE  little  boy  jingled  the  coins  in  his  hands,  and  sang 
reflectively  to  the  Bear's  soft  music.  Their  camp  fire 
had  died  down  to  a  few  red  embers,  and  the  big  moon 
hanging  in  the  tree-tops  made  all  the  world  white  and 
black,  with  one  bright  splash  in  the  brook  below.  They  had  fin 
ished  their  supper,  and  Bosephus,  with  the  needle  and  thread 
given  to  him  by  old  Mis'  Todd,  had  patiently  mended  by  the  fire 
light  a  small  rent  in  his  trouser  leg.  Horatio,  watching  him 
with  a  grin,  had  finally  remarked : — 

"You  see,  Bo,  if  you  wore  clothes  like  mine  you  wouldn't 
have  to  do  that." 

"And  if  the  dog  that  did  that  had  got  his  teeth  into  your 
clothes,  you'd  have  wished  they  were  like  mine.     Maybe  that's 
why  you  didn't  give  him  a  chance." 
"Let's  count  the  money,  Bo." 

So  then  they  counted  up  their  day's  receipts.  There  was 
something  more  than  a  dollar  in  all,  and  Horatio  was  much 
pleased. 


THEIR   CAMP-FIRE   HAD    DIED   DOWN. 


40  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

"I  tell  you,  Bo,"  he  said  excitedly,  "we've  made  a  fine  start. 
By  and  by  we  will  earn  two  or  three  times  that  much  every  day, 
and  be  able  to  start  our  bear  colony  before  you  know  it." 

The  little  boy  fondled  the  coins  over  and  over.  They  were 
the  first  he  had  ever  earned. 

"Ratio,"  he  said  at  last,  "don't  you  suppose  when  we  get  a 
lot  of  money — a  big  lot,  I  mean — we  might  give  some  to  those 
people  I  used  to  live  with?" 

Horatio  scowled. 

"I  thought  you  said  they  didn't  treat  you  well  and  you  had 
to  run  away." 

"Yes,  of  course,  Ratio;  but  then  they  were  so  poor  and  may 
be  they'd  have  been  better  to  me  if  I  had  been  able  to  earn  money 
for  them.  They  did  take  me  out  of  the  poor  house,  you  know, 
and—" 

"And  you  tried  to  get  back  again  and  got  lost  and  fell  in 
with  me.  Now  you  are  sorry  and  want  to  go  to  them,  do  you?" 
and  the  Bear  snorted  so  fiercely  that  the  little  boy  trembled. 

"Oh,  no!  Not  for  the  world!  I  never  was  so  happy  in  all 
my  life,  only  I  just  thought — " 

"Then  don't  think,  Bo,"  interrupted  Horatio,  gently.  "You 
are  only  a  little  boy.  I  will  do  the  thinking  for  this  firm.  Now 
for  a  song,  Bo,  to  soothe  us." 

So  then  they  played  and  sang  softly  together  while  the 
moon  rose  and  the  fire  died  out,  and  the  boy  poured  the  money 
from  hand  to  hand,  lovingly. 

"Bosephus,"  said  his  companion,  as  they  paused,  "were 
those  people  you  lived  with  nice  people?  Nice  fat  people,  I 
mean?" 

"Not  very.  Old  Mr.  Sugget  might  have  been  pretty  fat 
if  he'd  had  more  to  eat,  but  Mis'  Sugget  wasn't  made  to  get 
fat,  I  know.  It  wasn't  her  build." 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  41 

"It  was  the  old  man  that  abused  you,  wasn't  it?" 

"Well,  mostly." 

"Knocked  you  about  and  half  starved  you?" 

"Sometimes,  but  then " 

"Wait,  please.  I  have  an  idea.  When  we  get  our  bear  col 
ony  started  we'll  invite  this  Sugget  party  to  visit  us.  We'll  feed 
him — all  he  can  eat.  By  and  by,  when  he  gets  fat — how  long 
do  you  suppose  it  will  take  him  to  get  fat,  Bo?  Fat  enough,  I 
mean?" 

"Fat  enough  for  what?"  shivered  Bo. 

Horatio  drew  the  horsehair  briskly  across  the  strings  and 
looked  up  at  the  moon. 

"Fat  enough  to  be  entertaining,"  he  grinned,  and  began 
singing:— 

"Oh,  there  was  an  old  man  and  his  ways  were  mighty  mean, 

And  he  wasn't  very  fat  and  he  wasn't  very  lean^ 

Till  he  went  to  pay  a  visit  to  a  colony  of  bears, 

Then  you  couldn't  find  a  nicer  man  than  he  was,  anywheres." 

While  the  Bear  played  the  little  boy  had  been  watching  a 
slim,  moving  shadow  that  seemed  to  have  drifted  out  from 
among  the  heavier  shadows  into  the  half-lit  open  space  in  front 
of  them.  As  the  music  ceased  it  drifted  back  again. 

"Play  some  more,  Ratio,"  he  whispered. 

Again  the  Bear  played  and  again  the  slim  shadow  appeared 
in  the  moonlight  and  presently  another  and  another.  Some  of 
them  were  slender  and  graceful;  some  of  them  heavier  and 
slower  of  movement.  As  the  music  continued  they  swung  into  a 
half  circle  and  drew  closer.  Now  and  then  the  boy  caught  a 
glimpse  of  two  shining  sparks  that  kept  time  and  movement 
with  each.  He  could  hardly  breathe  in  his  excitement. 

"Look  there,  Ratio,"  he  whispered. 

Horatio  did  not  stir. 


42  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

"Sh-h!"  he  said  softly.    "My  friends — the  forest  people." 

The  Bear  slackened  the  music  a  little  as  he  spoke  and 
the  shadows  wavered  and  drew  away.  Then  he  livened  the 
strain  and  they  trooped  forward  again  eagerly. 

Just  then  the  moon  swung  clear  of  the  thick  trees  and  the 
dancers  were  in  its  full  flood.  The  boy  watched  them  with 
trembling  eagerness. 

A  tall,  catlike  creature,  erect  and  graceful,  swayed  like  a 
phantom  in  and  out  among  the  others,  and  seemed  to  lead.  As 
it  came  directly  in  front  of  the  musicians  it  turned  full  front 
toward  them.  It  was  an  immense  gray  panther. 

At  any  other  time  Bo  would  have  screamed.  Now  he  was 
only  fascinated.  Its  step  was  perfect  and  its  long  tail  waved  be 
hind  it,  like  a  silver  plume,  which  the  others  followed.  Two  red 
foxes  kept  pace  with  it.  Two  gray  ones,  a  little  to  one  side, 
imitated  their  movements.  In  the  background  a  family  of  three 
bears  danced  so  awkwardly  that  Bo  was  inclined  to  laugh. 

"We  will  teach  them  to  do  better  than  that  when  we  get 
our  colony,"  he  said. 

Horatio  nodded  without  pausing.  The  dancers  separated, 
each  group  to  itself,  the  gray  panther  in  the  foreground.  Spell 
bound,  the  boy  watched  the  beautiful  swaying  creature.  He 
had  been  taught  to  fear  the  "painter,"  as  it  was  called  in  Ar 
kansaw,  but  he  had  no  fear  now.  He  almost  felt  that  he  must 
himself  step  out  into  that  enchanted  circle  and  join  in  the  weird 
dance. 

New  arrivals  stole  constantly  out  of  the  darkness  to  mingle 
in  the  merrymaking.  A  little  way  apart  a  group  of  rabbits 
skipped  wildly  together,  while  near  them  a  party  of  capering 
wolves  had  forgotten  their  taste  for  blood.  Two  plump  'coons 
and  a  heavy  bodied  'possum,  after  trying  in  vain  to  keep  up  with 
the  others,  were  content  to  sit  side  by  side  and  look  on.  Other 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  43 

friends,  some  of  whom  the  boy  did  not  know,  slipped  out  into 
the  magic  circle,  and,  after  watching  the  others  for  a  moment, 
leaped  madly  into  the  revel.  The  instinct  of  the  old  days  had 
claimed  them  when  the  wild  beasts  of  the  forest  and  the  wood 
nymphs  trod  measures  to  the  pipes  of  Pan.  The  boy  leaned 
close  to  the  player. 

"The  rest  of  it !"  he  whispered.    "Play  the  rest  of  it !" 
"I  am  afraid.    They  have  never  heard  it  before." 
"Play  it!    Play  it!"  commanded  Bo,  excitedly. 
There  was  a  short,  sharp  pause  at  the  end  of  the  next  bar, 
then  a  sudden  wild  dash  into  the  second  half  of  the  tune.    The 
prancing  animals  stopped  as  if  by  magic.     For  an  instant  they 
stood  motionless,  staring  with  eyes  like  coals.     Then  came  a 
great  rush  forward,  the  gray  panther  at  the  head.    The  boy  saw 
them  coming,  but  could  not  move. 
"Sing!"  shouted  Horatio;  "sing!" 

For  a  second  the  words  refused  to  come.  Then  they  flood 
ed  forth  in  the  moonlight.  Bo  could  sing,  and  he  had  never 
sung  as  he  did  now. 


"Oh,  our  singing,  yes  our  singing,  all  our  friends  to  us  'tis  bringing, 
For  it  sets  the  woods  to  ringing,  and  the  forest  people  know 


That  we  do  not  mean  to  harm  them  in  their  dancing,  nor  alarm  them— 
We  are  seeking  but  to  charm  them  with  the  sounds  of  long  ago." 

At  the  first  notes  of  the  boy's  clear  voice  the  animals  hesi 
tated;  then  they  crept  up  slowly  and  gathered  about  to  listen. 
They  did  not  resume  dancing  to  this  new  strain.  Perhaps  they 
wanted  to  learn  it  first.  Bo  sang  on  and  on.  The  listening  au- 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  45 

dience  never  moved.  Then  Horatio  played  very  softly,  and  the 
singer  lowered  his  voice  until  it  became  like  a  far  off  echo. 
When  Bo  sang  like  this  he  often  closed  his  eyes.  He  did  so  now. 
The  music  sank  lower  and  lower,  until  it  died  away  in  a 
whisper.  The  boy  ceased  singing  and  opening  his  eyes  gazed 
about  him.  Here  and  there  he  imagined  he  heard  a  slight  rustle 
in  the  leaves,  but  the  gray  panther  was  gone.  The  frisking  rab 
bits  and  the  capering  wolves  had  vanished.  The  red  and  gray 
foxes,  the  awkward  bears  and  the  rest  of  that  frolicking  throng 
had  melted  back  into  the  shadows.  So  far  as  he  could  peer  into 
the  dim  forest  he  was  alone  with  his  faithful  friend. 


i 


CHAPTER  V 

GOOD-BYE  TO  ARKANSAW 

"Oh,  the  wind  blows  cold  and  the  wind  blows  raw, 
When  the  night  comes  on  in  the  Arkansaw— 
Yes,  the  wind  blows  cold  and  the  snow  will  fall. 
And  Bosephus  and  Horatio  must  travel  through  it  all." 

HE  little  boy's  voice  quavered  as  he  sang,  and  his 
teeth  chattered.  It  had  been  more  than  two  months 
since  he  started  on  his  travels  with  Horatio,  and  the 
October  nights,  even  in  southern  Arkansaw,  were  be 
ginning  to  be  chilly.  The  night  before  he  had  in  some  way  got 
separated  from  his  friend's  warm  furry  coat  and  woke  shivering. 
He  kindled  a  fire  now,  singing  as  he  worked,  while  Horatio 
touched  the  chords  of  his  violin  pensively.  He  did  not  feel  the 
cold.  Nature  was  providing  him  with  his  winter  furs. 

"Bo,"  he  said  presently,  "you'll  have  to  have  some  heavier 
clothes.  Either  that  or  we'll  have  to  go  farther  South.  As  for 
me,  you  know,  I  could  go-  to  sleep  in  a  hollow  tree  and  not  mind 
the  winter,  but  you  couldn't  do  it,  and  I  don't  intend  to,  either, 
this  year;  we're  making  too  much  money  for  that." 

Bo>  laughed  in  spite  of  the  cold  and  jingled  his  pockets. 
They  were  more  than  half  full  of  coin,  and  he  had  a  good  roll  of 
bills  in  his  jacket  besides. 

"No,"  he  said;  "we  are  getting  along  too  well.  We'll  be 
rich  by  spring  if  we  keep  right  on.  I'm  thinking,  though,  that 
we'll  never  be  able  to  get  South  fast  enough  if  we  walk." 

"Look  here,  Bo;  you're  not  thinking  about  putting  me  on 
that  cyclone  thing  they  call  a  train,  are  you?" 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  47 

"  Well,  not  exactly,  but  yesterday  where  we  performed  I 
heard  a  fellow  say  that  there  was  a  river  right  close  here,  and 
steamboats.  You  wouldn't  mind  a  steamboat,  would  you, 
Ratio?" 

"Of  course  not.  I  don't  mind  anything.  I've  always 
wanted  to>  ride  on  one  of  those  trains,  only  I  kn>ew  the  people 
would  be  frightened  at  me,  and  as  for  a  steamboat,  why,  if  I 
should  meet  a  steamboat  coming  down  the  road — " 

"But  steamboats  don't  come  down  the  roads,  Ratio;  they 
go  on  the  water." 

" Water!     Water  that  you  drink,  and  drown  things  in?" 

"Of  course!  And  if  the  boat  goes  down  we'll  be  drowned, 
too." 

Horatio  struck  a  few  notes  on  the  violin  before  replying. 

"Bo,"  he  said  presently,  "you're  a  friend  of  mine,  aren't  you? 
A  true  friend?" 

"Yes,  Ratio,  you  know  I  am." 

"Well,  then,  don't  you  go  on  one  of  those  boats.  It  would 
grieve  me  terribly  if  anything  should  happen  to  you.  I  might 
not  be  able  to  save  you,  Bo,  and  then  think  how  lonely  I  should 
be."  And  Horatio  put  one  paw  to  his  eyes  and  sobbed. 

"Oh,  pshaw,  Ratio!  Why,  I  can  swim  like  everything. 
I'm  not  afraid." 

"But  you  couldn't  save  us  both,  Bo — I  mean,  wre  both 
couldn't  save  the  fiddle — it  would  get  wet.  Think — think  of 
the  fiddle,  Bo!" 

The  fire  was  burning  brightly  by  this  time  and  the  lit 
tle  boy  was  getting  warm.  He  laughed  and  rubbed  his  hands 
and  began  to  sing: — 

"Oh,  we're  going  down  the  river  on  a  great  big  boat, 
And  Horatio's  so  excited  he  can  hardly  play  a  note, 
For  he  never  liked  the  water  and  he  never  learned  to  swim, 
And  he  thinks  if  he  goes  sailing  now  his  chances  will  be  slim." 


48  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

Horatio  stopped  short  and  snorted  angrily. 

"I  want  you  to  understand,"  he  said,  sharply,  "that  I'm 
not  afraid  of  anything.  You'll  please  remember  that  night 
when  the  forest  people  danced  and  you  thought  your  time  had 
come,  how  I  saved  you  by  making  you  sing.  There's  nothing 
I  fear.  Why  if—" 

But  what  Horatio  was  about  to  say  will  never  be  known, 
for  at  that  moment  there  came  such  a  frightful  noise  as  neither 
of  them  had  ever  heard  before.  It  came  from  everywhere  at 
once,  and  seemed  to  fill  all  the  sky  and  set  the  earth  to  trem 
bling.  It  was  followed  by  two  or  three  fierce  snorts  and  a  daz 
zling  gleam  of  light  through  the  trees.  The  little  boy  was  star 
tled,  and  as  for  the  Bear,  he  gave  one  wild  look  and  fled.  In  his 
fright  he  did  not  notice  a  small  shrub,  and,  tripping  over  it,  he 
fell  headlong  into  a  clump  of  briars,  where  he  lay,  groaning  dis 
mally  that  he  was  killed  and  that  the  world  was  coming  to  an 
end. 

Suddenly  Bosephus  gave  a  shout  of  laughter. 

"Get  up,  Ratio,"  he  called,  "it's  our  steamboat !  We're  right 
near  the  river  and  didn't  know  it.  They're  landing,  too,  and  we 
can  go  right  aboard." 

The  groaning  ceased  and  there  was  a  labored  movement 
among  the  briars. 

Presently  Horatio  crept  out,  very  much  crestfallen,  and 
picked  up  the  violin,  which  in  his  haste  he  had  dropped. 

"Bo,"  he  said,  sheepishly,  "I  never  told  you  about  it  before, 
but  I  am  subject  to  fits.  I  had  one  just  then.  They  come  on 
suddenly  that  way.  All  my  family  have  them  and  act  strangely 
at  times.  I'm  sure  you  don't  think  for  a  moment  that  I  was 
frightened  just  now." 

"Oh,  no,  of  course  not.    You  merely  picked  out  that  briar 
patch  as  a  good  place  to  have  a  fit  in.    Do  you  always  think  the 


HE  FELL  HEADLONG. 


50  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

world's  coming  to  an  end  when  you  are  taken  that  way?" 

"We'll  go  right  aboard,  Bo;  you  are  a  little  timid,  no  doubt, 
so  I'll  lead  the  way."  And  Horatio  stepped  out  briskly  toward 
the  lights  and  voices  and  the  landing  steamer. 

A  few  steps  brought  them  out  to  the  river  bank  and  a  full 
view  of  the  boat  that  had  crept  silently  around  a  bend  to  the 
woodyard,  where  it  was  halting  to  take  on  fuel.  The  gang  plank 
had  not  been  pushed  out  to  the  bank  as  yet,  but  a  white  ray  of 
light  shot  from  a  small  window  to  the  dark  shore  and  looked 
exactly  like  a  narrow  board.  The  boy  and  the  Bear  were  both 
deceived  by  it,  and  Horatio  in  his  eagerness  to  show  his  bravery 
did  not  pause  to  investigate. 

"Take  the  fiddle,  Bo,"  he  said,  loftily,  "and  I'll  show  you 
how  to  get  on  a  boat.  You  should  always  be  brave,  Bosephus." 

Bosephus  took  the  instrument  and  Horatio,  with  arms  ex 
tended  as  a  balance,  stepped  straight  out  into  nothing  and  van 
ished.  There  was  a  sudden  splash,  a  growl,  a  scrambling  sound 
in  the  shallow  water  and  Horatio's  head  appeared  above  the 
bank.  Bosephus,  at  first  frightened,  was  now  doubled  with 
laughter. 

"Oh,  Ratio,"  he  gasped,  "how  funny  of  you  to  try  to  walk 
on  a  moonbeam!" 

Horatio  shook  himself  and  sniffed  angrily.  A  wide  gang 
plank  was  now  being  lowered  from  the  boat,  and  as  it  touched 
the  bank  the  boy  stepped  quickly  aboard,  followed  by  the  wet, 
shambling  Bear. 

"Oh,  there  was  an  Old  Bear  on  a  dark,  dark  night, 
Who  tried  to  walk  on  a  beam  of  light," 

sang  Bo,  as  he  crossed  the  plank, 

"But  the  beam  wouldn't  hold  and  the  Bear  broke  through, 
And  now  Horatio  follows,  as  Horatio  ought  to  do." 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  51 

"Hello!"  called  a  voice.    "Where  did  you  come  from?" 

Bo  looked  up  and  saw  a  brawny  man  with  a  group  of  won 
dering  negroes  behind  him. 

"We  are  travelling,"  said  Bo,  "and  we  want  to  go  down  the 
river.  We  can  pay  our  way  and  will  make  music  for  you,  too." 

"Good  boy,"  said  the  mate.  "Go  right  up  and  report  to  the 
clerk,  then  come  back  down  here,  and  after  we  get  this  wood 
loaded  we'll  give  you  some  supper  and  you  can  give  us  a  show." 

On  the  upper  deck  the  few  passengers  gathered  around 
and  made  much  of  the  arrivals.  All  asked  questions  at  once, 
and  Bo  answered  as  best  he  could.  Horatio  kept  silent — he 
never  talked  except  when  he  was  alone  with  Bo.  The  boy  kept 
his  hand  on  the  Bear's  head,  and  when  the  boat  backed  away 
and  puffed  down  stream  he  felt  his  big  friend  tremble,  but  a  lit 
tle  later,  when  they  had  had  a  good  supper,  Ratio's  fear  passed 
off,  and  on  the  lower  deck,  where  all  hands  collected,  the  friends 
gave  an  entertainment  that  not  only  won  for  them  free  passage 
down  the  river,  but  a  good  collection  besides.  It  was  far  in  the 
night  when  the  performance  ended.  The  officers,  passengers 
and  crew  kept  calling  for  more,  and  the  travellers  were  anxious 
to  accommodate  them.  The  negroes  went  wild  over  the  music, 
and  patted  and  danced  crazily  whenever  Horatio  played.  Finally 
Bo  sang  a  good  night  song: — 


"Now,  we've  had  a  lot  of  music,  and  we've  had  some  supper,  too. 
And  we're  sailing  down  the  river  in  a  little  steam  canoe, 


And  we  love  to  be  obliging  with  our  music,  but  it  seems 
That  we  ought  to  go  a-sailing  to  the  land  of  pleasant  dreams. 


THE   NEGROES   WENT  WILD  OVER  THE  MUSIC. 


r 


THE   LITTLE   BOY   WAS   IN    THE    LAND    OF   DREAMS. 


54 


The  Arkansaw  Bear 


And  I  must  not  fail  to  mention  we  enjoy  your  kind  attention, 
And  the  favors  you  have  shown  to  us  have  filled  us  with  delight, 


And  to-morrow  we  will  play  for  you  and  sing  our  songs  so  gay  for  you, 
But  now  you  will  excuse  us  if  we  say— good— night." 

Bosephus  and  Horatio  were  both  offered  staterooms  on 
the  upper  deck,  but  Horatio  preferred  to  sleep  outside,  and  the 
little  boy  said  he  would  sleep  there  also.  Horatio  sat  up  for 
some  moments  after  Bo  had  stretched  himself  to  rest,  looking 
at  the  dark  wooded  banks  and  the  starlight  on  the  water  behind 
them. 

"Bo,"  he  {said,  at  last,  "we  are  going  to  see  the  world  now, 
sure  enough." 

"Yes,  Ratio,"  was  the  sleepy  answer. 

"Bo,  do  you  suppose  our  camp  fire  is  still  burning  back 
yonder?" 

No  answer. 

"I  hate  to  leave  old  Arkansaw,  don't  you,  Bo?" 

But  the  little  boy  was  in  the  land  of  dreams. 


i 


CHAPTER  VI 

AN   EXCITING  RACE 

"Sailing  down  the  river  so  early  in  the  morn, 
Sailing  down  the  river  so  early  in  the  morn, 
Sailing  down  the  river  so  early  in  the  morn, 
Never  was  so  happy  since  the  day  that  I  was  born." 

HE  boat  on  which  Horatio  and  Bosephus  had  taken 
their  passage  made  no  landings  during  the  night,  and 
the  little  boy  and  the  big  Bear  slept  soundly  on  the 
deck  together.  Rather  too  soundly,  as  will  be  seen 
later.  At  daybreak  the  next  morning  Bosephus  was  wide  awake, 
singing  softly  and  watching  through  the  mist  the  queer  forms 
of  the  cypress  trees,  with  the  long  Spanish  moss  swinging  from 
the  limbs.  Horatio,  hearing  the  singing,  rubbed  his  eyes  and 
sat  up.  He  had  never  beeri  so  far  South  before,  so  the  scenery 
was  new  to  both  of  them,  and  when  they  came  to  open  spaces 
and  saw  that  the  shores  were  only  a  few  inches  higher  than  the 
river  and  that  fields  of  waving  green  came  right  to  the  water's 
edge  they  were  both  pleased  and  surprised  at  this  new  world. 
The  climate  had  changed,  too,  and  the  air  was  warm  and  spring 
like. 

"I  tell  you,  Bo,"  said  Horatio  grandly,  "there's  nothing  like 
travel.  You're  a  lucky  boy,  Bo,  to  fall  in  with  me.  Why,  the 
way  you've  come  out  in  the  last  few  months  is  wonderful.  Of 
course,  there  is  a  good  deal  of  room  yet  for  improvement,  and 
there  are  still  some  things  that  you  are  rather  timid  of,  but  when 
I  remember  how  you  looked  the  first  minute  I  saw  you,  and 
then  to  see  the  sociable  way  you  sk  up  and  talk  to  me  now,  you 


56  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

really  don't  seem  like  the  same  boy,  Bosephus,  you  really  don't/' 
The  little  boy  leaned  up  close  to  his  companion. 

"Oh,  there  was  a  little  boy  and  his  name  was  Bo," 

he  sang  softly,  remembering  their  first  meeting. 

"Went  out  into  the  woods  when  the  moon  was  low," 

added  the  Bear,  strumming  lightly  the  strings  of  the  violin. 

"And  he  met  an  Old  Bear  that  was  hungry  for  a  snack, 
And  the  folks  are  still  awaiting  for  Bosephus  to  come  back," 

they  continued  together  in  a  half  whisper. 

"Ratio,"  said  the  little  boy,  confidentially,  "did  you  really 
intend  to — to  have  me — you  know,  Ratio — for — for  supper  un 
til  I  taught  you  the  tune?  Did  you,  Ratio?" 

Horatio  gazed  away  across  a  broad  cane  field,  where  the 
first  streak  of  sunrise  was  beginning  to  show. 

"For  the  boy  became  the  teacher  of  the  kind  and  gentle  creature 
Who  could  play  upon  the  fiddle  in  a  very  skilful  way," 

he  sang  dreamily,  and  then  both  together  once  more: — 

"Now  he'll  never,  never  leave  him,  and  he'll  never,  never  grieve  him, 
And  we're  singing  here  together  at  the  break— of— day." 

"This  is  very  pleasant  travelling,"  commented  Horatio 
thoughtfully.  "It  beats  walking,  at  least  for  speed  and  com 
fort.  Of  course,  there  are  a  number  of  places  we  cannot  reach 
by  boat,"  he  added,  regretfully. 

"Not  in  Southern  Louisiana,  Ratio.  I've  heard  that  there's 
a  regular  tangle  of  rivers  and  bayous  all  over  the  country,  and 
that  boats  go  everywhere." 

Horatio  looked  pleased. 

"Aren't  you  glad  now,  Bo,"  he  said  proudly,  "that  I  pro 
posed  this  boat  business?  I  have  always  wanted  to  travel  this 
way.  I  was  afraid  at  first  that  you  might  not  take  to  it  very 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  57 

well,  and  when  that  whistle  blew  last  night  I  could  see  that 
you  were  frightened.  It  was  unfortunate  that  I  should  have  had 
a  fit  just  then  or  I  might  have  calmed  you.  You  saw  how  anx 
ious  I  was  to  go  aboard.  Of  course,  in  being  over  brave  I  made 
a  slight  mistake.  I  am  always  that  way.  All  my  family  are. 
One  really  ought  to  be  less  reckless  about  some  things,  but 
somehow  none  of  my  family  ever  knew  what  fear  was.  We " 

But  just  then  the  boat  concluded  to  land,  and  the  morn 
ing  stillness  was  torn  into  shreds  by  its  frightful  whistle.  Hora 
tio  threw  up  both  hands  and  fell  backward  on  the  deck,  where 
he  lay  pawing  the  air  wildly.  Then  he  stuffed  his  paws  into  his 
ears  and  howled  as  he  kicked  with  his  hind  feet.  Bo  stood  over 
him  and  shouted  that  there  was  no  danger,  but  his  voice  made 
no  sound  in  that  awful  thunder.  All  at  once  Horatio  sprang 
up  and  jammed  his  head  under  Bo's  arm,  trembling  like  a  jelly 
fish.  Then  the  noise  stopped,  and  with  one  or  two  more  hoarse 
shouts  ceased  entirely. 

"It's  all  right,  Ratio,  come  out!"  said  Bo,  trying  to  stop 
laughing. 

Horatio  felt  of  his  ears  a  moment  to  see  that  they  were 
still  there,  while  he  looked  skittishly  in  the  direction  of  the 
dreadful  whistle  and  started  violently  at  the  quick  snorts  of  the 
escaping  steam. 

"Bo,"  he  said  faintly,  "do  all  boats  do  that?" 

"Oh,  yes!  Some  worse  than  others.  This  one  isn't  very- 
bad." 

"I'm  sorry,  Bo,  for  it  is  a  great  drawback  to  travel  where 
one  is  subject  to  fits  as  I  am.  It  seems  to  bring  them  on.  And 
it  is  not  kind  of  you  to  laugh  at  my  affliction,  either,  Bosephus," 
he  added,  for  Bo  had  dropped  down  on  the  deck,  where  he  was 
rolling  and  holding  his  sides. 

All  at  once  the  boy  lay  perfectly  still.    Then  he  sprang  up 


HE   STUFFED   HIS  PAWS  INTO   HIS   EARS. 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  59 

with  every  bit  of  laugh  gone  out  of  his  face.  His  left  hand 
grasped  the  outside  of  his  jacket,  while  with  his  right  hand  he 
dived  down  into  the  inside  pocket  like  mad.  The  Bear  watched 
him  anxiously. 

"What  is  it,  Bo?  Have  you  got  one,  too?"  he  asked. 

"Horatio!"  gasped  the  boy.    "Our  money!    It's  gone!" 

"Gone!    Gone!    Where?" 

"Stolen.  Some  of  those  niggers  did  it  while  we  were 
asleep!" 

The  Bear  reflected  a  moment.  Then  he  said  thought 
fully:— 

"Do  you  suppose,  Bo,  it  was  that  nice  fat  one?" 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  a  bit.  I  saw  him  watch  every  penny 
I  took  in  last  night." 

Horatio  licked  out  his  tongue  eagerly. 

"Could  I  have  him  if  it  was?"  he  asked  hungrily. 

"Have  him!  How?"  said  Bo.  Then  he  shuddered.  "Oh!  no, 
not  that  way — of  course  not.  But  I'll  tell  you,  Ratio,"  he  add 
ed,  "we'll  make  him  believe  that  you  can,  and  frighten  him  into 
giving  up  the  money." 

Horatio  frowned. 

"I  don't  like  make-believes,"  he  grumbled.  "Can't  we  let 
the  money  go  this  time  and  not  have  any  make-believe?" 

"Not  much — we  want  that  money  right  now,  before  the 
boat  lands;  then  we'll  go  ashore  and  get  out  of  such  a  crowd. 
Come,  Ratio." 

No  one  was  stirring  on  the  upper  deck  as  yet,  but  the  crew 
was  collected  below  where  the  second  mate  was  shouting  orders 
as  the  boat  swung  slowly  into  the  bank.  They  boy  and  Bear 
dashed  down  the  stairs. 

"Wait!"  shouted  Bo  to  the  officer.  "Somebody  on  this 
boat  last  night  stole  our  money,  and  I  want  my  Bear  to  find 


'OUR   MONEY!    IT  IS  GONE!" 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  61 

him.  It  won't  take  but  a  minute,  for  he  can  tell  a  thief  at  sight 
when  he's  mad  and  hungry,  and  he's  mad  now,  and  hungry  for 
dark  meat !"  The  boy  looked  straight  into  the  crowd  of  negroes, 
while  the  Bear  growled  fiercely  and  fixed  his  eye  on  the  fat 
darky. 

The  crew  fell  back  and  the  fat  darky  with  a  howl  started  to 
run. 

"That's  the  one!  That's  the  thief!"  shouted  Bo,  and  with 
a  snarl  Horatio  bounded  away  in  pursuit.  Down  the  narrow 
gangway  to  the  stern  of  the  boat,  then  in  a  circle  around  a  lot  of 
cotton,  they  ran  like  mad,  the  Bear  getting  closer  to  the  negro 
every  minute.  Then  back  again  to  the  bow  in  a  straight  stretch, 
the  thief  blue  with  fright  and  Horatio's  eyes  shining  with 
hungry  anticipation.  The  rest  of  the  crew  looked  on  and 
cheered.  Suddenly,  as  the  fat  darky  passed  Bo,  he  jerked  a 
sack  from  his  pocket  and  flung  it  behind  him. 

"Bar's  yo'  money!  Bar's  yo'  money!"  he  shouted.  "Call 
offyo'B'ar!" 

But  that  was  not  so  easy.  Bosephus  shouted  frantically  at 
Horatio,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  hear.  His  blood  was  up,  and 
his  taste  for  dark  meat  was  stronger  than  his  love  of  money. 
As  the  two  came  clattering  around  the  second  time  he  was  so 
close  to  his  prey  that  with  a  quick  swipe  he  got  quite  a  piece  of 
his  shirt.  With  a  wild  yell  the  fat  fugitive  leaped  over  into  the 
river  and  struck  out  for  shore. 

Horatio  paused.  His  half  open  jaws  were  dripping  and  his 
eyes  red  and  fiery  with  disappointment.  Bo  went  up  to  him 
gently. 

"Come,  Ratio,"  he  whispered. 

The  Bear  paid  no  heed.  He  was  watching  his  escaped  prey, 
who  had  reached  the  shore  and  was  disappearing  in  a  great 
canefield. 


THE  FAT  FUGITIVE  LEAPED  OVER  INTO  THE  RIVER. 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  63 

"Come!"  Bo  whispered  again.    "We'll  go  ashore,  too." 

Horatioi  wheeled  eagerly.  The  gangplank  was  being  low 
ered,  and  he  hurried  Bo  out  on  it,  so  that  when  it  touched  the 
bank  he  was  all  ready  to  give  chase  again." 

"No,  wait;  some  music  first,"  said  Bo.  "I  have  thought  of 
some  new  lines  for  the  second  part  of  the  tune." 

For  a  moment  Horatio  hesitated.  Then  the  temptation 
of  the  music  was  stronger  even  than  his  appetite,  and,  throwing 
his  violin  into  position,  he  began  to  play.  The  passengers, 
roused  by  the  excitement,  had  gathered  on  the  upper  deck. 
The  crew  coming  ashore  below  paused  to  listen. 


"Oh!  there  was  a  fat  darky  with  an  appetite  for  wealth, 
And  the  only  way  to  get  it  was  to  capture  it  by  stealth, 


But  when  it  came  to  keep  it,  his  chances  were  so  small, 
He  concluded  that  he  really  didn't  care  for  it  at  all. 


For  we  placed  him  and  we  faced  him,  and  my  bear  Horatio  chased  him— 
In  a  manner  most  surprising  he  pursued  him  to  and  fro— 


And  we  hope  we  do  not  grieve  you,  but  we  feel  that  we  must  leave  you, 
For  the  Southern  sun  Is  rising,  and  we're  bound— to— go." 

The  crew  cheered  and  the  passengers  on  the  upper  deck 
shouted  and  waved  their  handkerchiefs. 

"Don't  go!"  they  called.  Don't  leave  us!"  But  the  friends 
turned  their  faces  to  the  East  and  set  out  on  a  broad  white  road 
that  led  away  to  the  sunrise. 


CHAPTER  VII 

HORATIO'S    MOONLIGHT  ADVENTURE 


"Rooster  in  de  chicken  coop  crowin'  foh  day, 
Horses  in  de  stable  goin'  'Nay,  nay,  nay!' 


Ducks  in  de  yard  goin'  'Quack,  quack,  quack!' 
Guineas  in  de  tree  tops  goin'  'Rack-pot-rack!'  " 

DURING  the  two  weeks  since  they  had  come  to  the  land 
of  sugar-cane  Horatio  and  Bosephus  had  learned  some 
of  the  old  negro  songs  of  Louisiana  and  sang  them  to 
their  own  music.      They  were  doing  so  now  as  they 
marched  along  the  bank  of  a  quiet  bayou,  where  the  blue  grass 
came  to  the  water's  edge  and  the  long  Spanish  moss  from  big 
live  oak  trees  swung  down  twenty  feet  or  more  till  it  almost 
touched  the  water.     They  had  had  a  good  day  and  were  going 
to  camp. 

"Bo,"  said  the  Bear  presently,  "we  are  doing  well.  We  are 
making  money,  Bo." 

"Fifty  dollars  since  we  left  the  boat,"  said  the  little  boy. 
"These  fat  babies — little  darky  babies — are  very  amusing, 
too,  Bosephus,  don't  you  think  so?"  Horatio  added,  nodding  in 
the  direction  of  some  they  were  just  then  passing. 

"I  notice  that  you  think  so,"  said  Bo,  dryly.  "If  you'll  take 
my  advice,  though,  you  won't  show  any  special  fondness  for 
them.  People  might  not  understand  your  ways,  you  know,  and 


"THESE   LITTLE   DARKEY   BABIES   ARE   VERY— AMUSING.' 


66  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

besides,"  he  added,  with  a  grin,  "I've  heard  say  these  darkies 

of  them— 

down  here  are  mighty  fond  of  bear  meat,  and  there's  such  a  lot 

"Don't  you  mention  it,  Bo;  I  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing 
as  you  are  hinting  at." 

"Well,  you  said  you  were  dreaming  yesterday  when  we  met 
that  little  darky  boy,  and  you  nearly  tore  the  jacket  off  of  him 
before  I  could  wake  you  up  with  a  club." 

Horatio  drew  his  bow  hastily  across  the  strings  and  began 
singing— 


"Keemo,  kimo,  kilgo,  kayro, 

Horses  in  de  stable  goin'  'Nay,  nay,  nay!' 


Rop  strop,  periwinkle,  little  yaller  nigger, 
Cum  a  rop  strop  bottle  till  the  break  of  day." 

The  sun  was  just  setting  behind  a  large,  white,  old  fash 
ioned  sugar  house,  where  the  bayou  turned,  and  made  it  look 
like  an  ancient  castle.  The  little  boy  sighed.  He  had  never 
believed  that  any  country  could  be  so  beautiful  as  this,  and  he 
wanted  to  stay  in  it  forever.  Horatio  liked  it,  too.  They  had 
played  and  danced  at  many  of  the  sugar  houses,  and  the  Bear  had 
been  given  everywhere  all  the  waste  sugar  he  could  eat.  He 
was  fond  of  the  green  cane  also,  and  was  nearly  always  chewing 
a  piece  when  they  were  not  busy  with  a  performance.  But  the 
big  fellow  had  never  quite  overcome  his  old  savage  nature,  and 
the  race  on  the'steamboat  had  roused  it  more  fiercely  than  ever. 
The  fat  pickaninnies  were  a  constant  temptation  to  him,  and  it 
had  taken  all  Bo's  watchfulness  to  keep  him  out  of  dreadful 
mischief.  Bo  never  feared  for  himself.  Horatio  loved  him  and 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  67 

had  even  become  afraid  of  him.  It  was  for  Horatio  that  he 
feared,  for  he  knew  that  death  would  be  sure  and  swift  if  one  of 
the  pickaninnies  was  even  so  much  as  scratched,  not  to  mention 
anything  worse  that  might  happen.  Again  the  little  boy 
sighed  as  they  turned  into  a  clean  grassy  place  and  made  ready 
for  camp. 

Long  after  Bosephus  was  asleep  Horatio  sat  by  the  dying 
camp  fire,  thinking.  By  and  by  he  rose  and  walked  out  to  the 
bank  of  the  bayou  and  looked  toward  the  sugar  house  that  lay 
white  in  the  moonlight,  half  a  mile  away.  Then  he  went  back 
to  where  Bo  was  asleep  and  picked  up  the  violin.  Then  he  laid 
it  down  again,  as  though  he  had  changed  his  mind,  and  slipped 
away  through  the  shadows  in  the  direction  of  the  old  sugar 
house.  He  said  to  himself  that,  as  they  were  going  in  that  di 
rection  and  would  stop  there  next  day,  he  might  as  well  see  how 
the  road  went  and  what  kind  of  a  place  it  was.  He  did  not  own, 
even  to  himself,  that  it  was  the  negro  cabins  and  fat  pickaninnies 
that  were  in  his  mind,  and  that  down  in  his  heart  was  a  wicked 
and  savage  purpose.  Every  little  way  he  paused  and  seemed 
about  to  turn  back,  but  he  kept  on.  By  and  by  he  drew  near 
the  sugar  house  and  saw  the  double  row  of  whitewashed  huts  in 
the  moonlight.  It  was  later  than  he  had  supposed  and  the 
crowds  of  little  darkies  that  were  usually  playing  outside  had 
gone  to  bed.  He  sighed  and  was  about  to  turn  back  when  sud 
denly  he  saw  something  capering  about  near  the  shed  of  the 
sugar  house.  He  slipped  up  nearer  and  a  fierce  light  came  into 
his  eyes.  It  was  a  little  negro  boy  doing  a  hoo-doo  dance  in  the 
moonlight. 

Suddenly  the  little  fellow  turned  and  saw  the  Bear  glaring 
at  him.  Horatio  was  between  him  and  the  cabins.  The  boy 
gave  one  wild  shriek  and  dashed  through  a  small  open  door  that 
led  into  the  blackness  of  the  sugar  house,  the  Bear  following 


HE  SLIPPED  AWAY  THROUGH  THE  SHADOWS. 


The  Arkansaw  Beat  69 

close  behind.  It  was  one  of  the  old  Creole  sugar  houses  where 
the  syrup  is  poured  out  into  open  vessels  to  cool  and  harden. 
The  little  darky  knew  his  way  and  Horatio  didn't.  He  stum 
bled  and  fell,  and  growled  and  tried  to  follow  the  flying  shadow 
that  was  skipping  and  leaping  and  begging,  "Oh,  Mars  Debbil! 
Oh,  please,  Mars  Debbil,  lemme  go  dis  time,  an'  I  nevah  do  so 
no  mo'.  Nevah  do  no  mo'  hoo-doo,  Mars  Debbil;  oh,  please, 
Mars  Debbil,  lemme  go !" 

But  Horatio*  was  getting  closer  and  closer  and  in  another 
moment  would  seize  him.  Then,  suddenly,  something  hap 
pened.  The  Bear  stumbled  and,  half  falling,  stepped  into  one 
of  the  big  shallow  wooden  vessels.  He  felt  his  hind  feet  break 
through  something  like  crusted  ice  and  sink  a  foot  or  more  into 
a  heavy,  thick  substance  below.  When  he  tried  to  lift  them 
they  only  sank  deeper.  Then  he  knew  what  was  the  matter. 
He  had  stepped  into  a  mass  of  hardening  sugar  and  was  a  pris 
oner!  His  forefeet  were  free,  but  he  dared  not  struggle  with 
them  for  fear  of  getting  them  fast,  too.  The  little  darky,  who 
thought  the  devil  had  stopped  to  rest,  was  huddled  together  in 
a  corner  not  daring  to  move.  Horatio  remembered  Bo  sleep 
ing  safely  in  their  camp  and  began  to  weep  for  his  own  wicked 
ness.  In  the  morning  men  would  come  with  axes  and  guns. 
Why  had  he  not  heeded  Bo?  Half  seated  on  the  crusted  sugar 

he  gave  himself  up  to  sorrow  and  despair. 

#         #         * 

It  was  early  morning  \vhen  Bo  awoke.  He  was  surprised 
to  see  that  Horatio  was  not  beside  him,  for  the  boy  was  usually 
first  awake.  He  called  loudly.  Then,  as  the  moments  passed 
and  the  Bear  did  not  come,  he  grew  uneasy.  Suddenly  a  terri 
ble  suspicion  flashed  over  him.  He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  seiz 
ing  the  violin  that  lay  beside  him  set  forth  on  a  run  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  white  sugar  house.  He  knew  Horatio  would  go 


SUDDENLY  THE  LITTLE  FELLOW  TURNED. 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  71 

there  because  it  was  nearest,  and  he  felt  certain  that  something 
dreadful  had  happened.  The  incident  of  the  day  before  made 
him  almost  sure  of  Horatio's  errand,  and  he  feared  the  worst. 
No  doubt  they  had  caught  and  killed  him  by  this  time,  and 
what  would  he  do  now  without  his  faithful  friend? 

He  ran  faster  and  faster.  As  he  drew  near  the  sugar  house 
he  heard  a  great  commotion.  For  a  moment  he  stopped.  If 
Horatio  had  done  something  terrible  and  they  had  caught  him 
perhaps  it  would  be  dangerous  to  interfere.  The  next  moment 
he  rushed  on.  Horatio  was  his  friend  and  he  would  save  his  life 

if  possible,  unless .     He  did  not  think  any  further,  but  flew 

on.  As  he  dashed  into  the  cane  yard  he  saw  crowds  gathering 
and  men  running  with  axes  and  clubs.  Others  had  guns  and 
cane  knives,  and  all  were  crowding  toward  the  big  doors  of  the 
sugar  house,  that  were  now  thrown  open.  Inside  he  heard 
shouts,  mingled  with  Horatio's  fierce  growls.  His  friend  was 
still  alive. 

Without  pausing  he  rushed  through  the  doors  and 
saw  a  circle  of  negro  men  gathered  about  the  big  wooden 
trough  where  the  Bear  was  a  prisoner,  snapping  and  growling 
and  trying  to  get  free.  The  little  pickaninny  who,  in  spite  of 
his  fright,  had  slept  all  night  in  the  corner,  was  there,  too,  and 
the  men  with  axes  and  other  weapons  had  entered  with  Bo. 
There  was  not  a  second  to  be  lost. 

"Wait!"  screamed  Bo;  "wait!"  And  tearing  through  the 
astonished  crowd  he  thrust  the  violin  into  Horatio's  hands. 

"Play !"  he  shouted.    "Play  for  your  worthless  life !" 

"Horatio  did  not  need  to  be  told  again.  He  reached  for 
the  violin  and  bow,  and  sitting  in  the  now  solid  sugar  struck  the 
strings  wildly. 

"Rooster  in  de  chicken  coop,  crowin*  fob  day; 
Horses  in  de  stable  goin'  'Nay,  nay,  nay;' 
Ducks  in  de  yard  goin'  'Quack,  quack,  quack!' 
Guineas  in  de  tree  tops,  goin'  'Rack-pot-rack!'  " 


J2  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

Horatio  fiddled  furiously,  while  Bo  shouted  and  sang  and 
the  crowd  joined  in.  They  all  knew  this  song,  and  as  they  sang 
they  forgot  all  else.  Axes  and  guns  and  clubs  were  dropped  as 
young  and  old  fell  into  the  swing  of  the  music. 

"Keemo,  kimo,  kilgo,  kayro; 

Fleero,  fliro.  flav-o-ray; 

Rop  strop,  periwinkle,  little  yaller  nigger, 

Cum  a  rop  strop  bottle  till  de  break — of — day!" 

You  could  hear  the  noise  for  a  mile.  They  danced  and 
shouted  and  sang,  and  work  was  forgotten.  After  a  long  time, 
when  they  were  tired  out,  Bo  took  one  of  the  axes  and  carefully 
broke  the  now  solid  sugar  away  from  Ratio's  feet  and  set  him 
free.  Then  they  brought  water  and  washed  his  hind  paws  and 
he  danced  for  them. 

After  dinner,  when  the  friends  started  out  on  their  journey, 
the  crowd  followed  them  for  nearly  a  mile.  When  all  were  gone 
Horatio  turned  to  Bo  and  said: — 

"I  am  glad  you  came  just  as  you  did,  Bo." 

"I  should  rather  think  you  would  be,"  said  Bo,  grimly. 

"Because,"  continued  Horatio,  "if  you  hadn't  I  might  have 
damaged  some  of  those  fellows,  and  I  know  you  wouldn't  have 
liked  that,  Bosephus."  He  looked  at  the  little  boy  very  humbly 
as  he  said  this,  expecting  a  severe  lecture.  But  the  little  boy 
made  no  reply,  and  down  in  his  heart  the  big  Bear  at  that  mo 
ment  made  a  solemn  and  good  resolve. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

SWEET  AND   SOUR 


"Oh,  we're  down  in  the  land  where  the  jasmine  blows, 
And  the  cypress  waves  and  the  orange  grows, 


And  the  song  bird  nests  in  the  climbing  rose— 

And  all  the  girls  are  beautiful,  and  milk  and  honey  flows." 


H 


O RATIO  paused  in  his  playing  and  looked  at  Bo- 
sephus,  who  was  ready  to  sing  another  stanza. 

"Look  here,  Bo,"  he  said  gravely,  "that  sounds 
very  pretty  and  may  be  very  good  poetry  and  true 
enough,  but  I  wouldn't  get  to  singing  too  much  about  jasmine 
and  song  birds  and  climbing  roses  if  I  were  you,  and  especially 
girls.  You  are  only  a  little  boy,  and  besides,  I  can't  see  that 
there  is  any  difference  in  girls,  except  that  some  are  plump  and 
some  are  not,  and  that  isn't  any  difference  to  me,  now,"  and  the 
Bear  sighed  and  strummed  on  his  violin  gently. 

"Oh,  pshaw,  Ratio!    There's  lots  of  difference.    Some  girls 
are  yellow  and  sour  as  a  lemon,  while  some  are  as  pink  and 

sweet  and  blooming  as  a  creole  rose" 

"Bosephus/'  interrupted  the  Bear  gravely,  "youVe  got  a 
touch  of  the  swamp  fever.    Let  me  see  your  tongue!" 
Bo  stuck  out  his  tongue. 

"My  tongue's  all  right,"  he  grinned.    "That  kind  of  fever's 
in  the  heart." 


74  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

Horatio  looked  alarmed. 

"You  must  take  something  for  it  right  away,  Bo,"  he  de 
clared.  "I  can't  have  you  singing  silly  songs  about  jasmine  and 
cypress  and  girls  in  milk  and  honey.  You  know  we  haven't  seen 
any  honey  since  we  left  Arkansaw,  and  I'd  travel  all  the  way 
back  there  on  foot  to  rob  one  good  honey  tree.  I'm  getting 
tired  of  so  much  of  this  stuff  they  call  sugar  and  cane  and  the 
like." 

"Why  they  have  honey  here,  Ratio,  too.  I  haven't  seen 
any  bee  trees,  but  I've  seen  plenty  of  bees.  I  suppose  they  are  in 
hives — boxes  that  people  keep  for  them  to  live  in." 

"Where  do  they  have  those  boxes,  Bo?" 

"Well,  in  their  yards  mostly;  generally  out  by  the  back 
fence." 

"Could  we  rob  them?" 

"Well,  I  shouldn't  like  to  try  it." 

The  Bear  walked  along  some  distance  in  silence.  The  boy 
was  also  thinking  and  singing  softly  to  himself.  He  was  very 
happy.  Presently  he  looked  up  and  saw  just  ahead,  in  a  field 
near  the  road,  a  tree  loaded  with  oranges. 

"Look,  Ratio!"  he  said,  "Don't  you  wish  we  had  some  of 
those?" 

The  Bear  looked  up  and  began  to  lick  out  his  tongue. 

"Climb  over  and  get  some,  Bo,"  he  said  eagerly. 

"Not  much.  I  haven't  forgotten  the  roasting  ears  and  the 
watermelon  we  got  from  old  man  Todd  in  Arkansaw.  We 
might  go  to  the  house  and  ask  for  some. 

"Nonsense,  Bosephus.    Watch  me!" 

He  handed  Bo  the  fiddle,  and  running  lightly  to  the  hedge 
cleared  it  at  a  bound. 

"Fine!"  shouted  Bo. 

Horatio,  without  pausing,  hurried  over  to  the  tree. 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  75 

"Funny  they  should  leave  those  oranges  so  late,"  thought 
the  little  boy  as  he  watched  him. 

Swinging  himself  to  the  first  limb,  the  Bear  shook  off  a 
lot  of  the  fine  yellow  fruit,  and  climbing  down,  gathered  in 
his  arms  all  he  could  carry.  As  he  did  so  there  came  a  loud 
barking  of  dogs,  and  without  looking  behind  him  he  started  to 
run.  He  dropped  a  few  of  the  oranges,  but  kept  straight  on,  the 
two  huge  dogs  that  had  appeared  getting  closer  and  closer.  As 
he  reached  the  hedge  he  once  more  made  a  grand  leap,  but  the 
oranges  prevented  him  doing  so  well  as  before.  His  foot  caught 
in  the  top  branches  and  he  rolled  over  and  over  in  the  dusty  road, 
the  oranges  flying  in  every  direction.  The  dogs  behind  the 
hedge  barked  and  raged. 

Horatio  rose,  dusty  and  panting,  but  triumphant. 

"You  see,  Bo,"  he  said,  "what  it  is  to  be  brave.  You  can  fill 
your  pockets  now  with  these  delicious  oranges." 

He  picked  up  one  as  he  spoke,  and  brushing  off  the  dust, 
bit  it  in  half  cheerfully.  Then  Bo,  who  was  watching  him,  saw  a 
strange  thing  take  place.  The  half  orange  flew  out  of  the  Bear's 
mouth  as  from  a  popgun,  and  his  face  became  so  distorted  that 
the  boy  thought  his  friend  was  having  a  spasm.  Suddenly  he 
whirled,  and  making  a  rush  at  the  fallen  oranges,  began  to  kick 
them  in  every  direction,  coughing  and  spitting  every  second. 
The  two  dogs  looking  over  the  hedge  stopped  barking  to  enjoy 
the  fun.  One  of  the  oranges  rolled  to  Bo's  feet.  He  picked  it 
up  and  srnelled  it.  Then  rubbing  it  on  his  coat  he  bit  into  it.  It 
was  not  a  large  bite,  but  it  was  enough.  The  tears  rolled  from 
his  eyes  and  every  tooth  in  his  head  jumped.  Such  a  mixture  of 
stinging  sour  and  bitter  he  had  never  dreamed  of.  It  grabbed 
him  by  the  throat  and  shook  him  until  his  bones  cracked.  The 
top  of  his  head  seemed  coming  loose,  and  his  ears  fairly  snapped. 
Then  he  realized  what  Horatio  must  be  suffering,  and  laughed  in 
spite  of  himself. 


FLEW  OUT  OF  HIS  MOUTH  AS  FROM  A  POP  GUN. 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  77 

"They  are  mock  oranges,  Ratio,"  he  shouted,  "and  they 
are  mocking  us  for  stealing  them!" 

Horatio  had  seated  himself  by  the  roadside  and  was  snort 
ing  and  clawing  at  his  tongue. 

"I  must  have  some  honey,  Bo,"  he  said,  "to  take  away  that 
dreadful  taste.  You  must  find  me  some  honey,  Bo." 

"You  see,  Ratio,"  said  the  little  boy,  "it  doesn't  pay  to  take 
things." 

"Bosephus,"  said  the  Bear,  "a  man  who  will  plant  a  tree  like 
that  so  near  the  road  deceives  wilfully  and  should  be  punished." 

They  walked  along  slowly,  the  two  dogs  barking  after 
them  from  behind  the  hedge. 

Just  beyond  the  next  bend  in  the  road  a  beautiful  planta 
tion  came  into  view.  They  turned  into  the  cane  yard  and  im 
mediately  the  workhands  surrounded  them.  Horatio  felt  better 
by  this  time,  and  they  began  a  performance.  First  Bo  sang 
and  then  Horatio  gave  a  gymnastic  exhibition.  Then  at  last 
Bo  sang  a  closing  verse  as  follows: — 


"Now  our  little  show  is  ended,  and  we  hope  you  think  it  splendid, 
And  we  trust  we've  not  offended  or  displeased  you  anywhere, 


You  have  paid  us  to  be  funny,  and  we  thank  you  for  the  money, 
But  I'd  like  a  little  honey  for  the  Old— Black— Bear. 

Horatio  smiled  when  he  heard  this,  and  the  planter  who 
was  listening  sent  one  of  the  servants  to  the  house.  He  came 
out  soon  with  a  piece  of  fresh  honey  on  a  plate.  He  offered  it 
to  Horatio,  who  handed  Bo  the  violin,  and  seizing  the  plate, 


78  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

swallowed  the  honey  at  one  gulp.  This  made  the  crowd  shout 
and  laugh,  and  then  Bo  shook  hands  with  the  planter  and  said 
good-bye,  and  all  the  darkies  came  up  and  wanted  to  shake 
hands,  too.  When  he  had  shaken  hands  all  around  the  little  boy 
turned  to  look  for  Horatio.  He  was  nowhere  in  sight.  The 
others  had  not  noticed  him  slip  away. 

Bo  was  troubled.  When  Horatio  disappeared  like  that  it 
meant  mischief.  He  had  promised  reform  as  to  pickaninnies, 
but  Bo  was  never  quite  sure.  He  was  about  to  ask  the  people  to 
run  in  every  direction  in  search  of  his  comrade  when  there  was 
a  sudden  commotion  in  the  back  door  yard,  and  a  moment  later 
a  black  figure  dashed  through  the  gate  with  something  under 
its  arm.  It  was  Horatio!  The  crowd  of  darkies  took  one  look 
and  scattered.  The  thing  under  Horatio's  arm  was  a  square, 
box  looking  affair,  and  out  of  it  was  streaming  a  black,  living 
cloud. 

"Bees !"  shouted  the  people  as  they  fled.    "Bees !    Bees !" 

Bo  understood  instantly.  The  taste  of  honey  had  made 
Horatio  greedy  for  more.  He  had  gone  in  search  of  it  and  re 
turned  with  hive  and  all.  There  was  a  clump  of  tall  weeds  just 
behind  the  little  boy,  and  he  dropped  down  into  them.  They  hid 
him  from  view,  and  none  too  soon,  for  the  Bear  dashed  past, 
snorting  and  striking  at  the  swarm  of  stingers  that  not  only 
covered  him,  but  fiercely  attacked  everything  in  sight.  Howls 
began  to  come  from  some  of  the  hands  that  had  failed  to  find 
shelter  in  time,  and  Bo,  peeping  out  between  the  weeds,  saw 
half  a  dozen  darkies  frantically  trying  to  open  the  big  door  of 
the  sugar  house,  which  had  been  hastily  closed  by  those  within, 
while  the  angry  bees  were  pelting  furiously  at  the  unfortunates. 

As  for  Horatio,  he  was  coated  with  bees  that  were  trying  to 
sting  through  his  thick  fur.  He  did  not  mind  them  at  first,  but 


THE  BEAR  DASHED  PAST,  SNORTING. 


8o  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

presently  they  began  to  get  near  his  eyes.  With  a  snarl  he 
dropped  the  hive  and  began  to  paw  and  strike  with  both  hands. 
Then  they  swarmed  about  him  worse  than  ever,  and,  half  blind 
ed,  he  began  to  run  around  and  around  with  no  regard  as  to  di 
rection.  Every  darky  in  sight  fled  like  the  wind.  Some  of 
them  ran  out  of  the  gate  and  down  the  road,  and  without  see 
ing  them,  perhaps,  the  Bear  suddenly  leaped  the  fence  and  set 
out  in  the  same  direction.  Glancing  back,  they  saw  him  com 
ing  and  began  to  shriek  and  scatter  into  the  fields. 

Bo  waited  some  minutes;  then,  noticing  that  the  maddened 
insects  were  no  longer  buzzing  viciously  over  him,  he  crept  out 
and  followed.  He  still  held  the  violin  and  was  glad  enough  to 
get  away  from  the  plantation.  The  bees  had  followed  the  fugi 
tive,  and  the  boy  kept  far  enough  behind  to  be  out  of  danger. 
By  and  by  he  met  bees  coming  back,  but  perhaps  they  were  tired 
or  thought  he  belonged  to  another  crowd,  for  they  did  not  mo 
lest  him.  A  mile  further  on  he  found  Horatio  sitting  in  the  road 
rocking  and  groaning  and  throwing  dust  on  himself.  His  eyes 
and  nose  were  swollen  in  great  knots,  and  his  ears  were  each 
puffed  up  like  little  balloons.  The  bees  had  left  him,  but  his 
sorrow  was  at  its  height. 

"Hello,  Ratio!  Having  fun  all  alone?"  asked  Bo  as  he  came 
up. 

"Oh,  Bo,  this  has  been  an  awful  day!"  was  the  wailing  re 
ply.  "First  those  terrible  oranges  and  then  these  millions  and 
millions  of  murderous  bees.  And  now  I  am  blind,  Bo,  and  dy 
ing.  Tell  me,  Bo,  how  do  I  look?" 

"Oh,  you  look  all  right.  Your  nose  looks  like  a  big  potato 
and  your  ears  like  two  little  ones.  I  can't  tell  you  how  your 
eyes  are,  for  they  don't  show,  but  your  whole  skin  looks  as  if 
it  had  been  stuffed  full  of  apples  and  put  on  in  a  hurry." 

"Bo,"  said  Horatio  meekly,  "did  you  bring  the  fiddle?" 


HE  FOUND  HORATIO  SITTING  IN  THE  ROAD,   ROCKING  AND    GROANING. 


82  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

"Well,  yes;  I  thought  it  might  happen  that  we'd  need  it 
again." 

Horatio  put  out  his  paw  for  it.  The  boy  gave  it  to  him  and 
he  ran  the  bow  gently  over  the  strings. 

"Sing,  Bo,"  he  pleaded.  "Sing  that  song  about  jasmine 
and  cypress  and  climbing  roses.  It  will  soothe  me.  Sing  about 
girls,  too,  if  you  want  to,  but  leave  out  the  oranges,  Bo,  and  put 
in  something  else  besides  honey  in  the  last  line." 

"Ratio,"  said  Bo,  "you've  got  a  touch  of  the  swamp  fever. 
Let  me  see  your  tongue!" 


CHAPTER  IX 

IN   JAIL  AT   LAST 

"Oh,  the  sky  is  blue  and  the  sun  is  high, 

And  the  days  roll  'round,  and  the  weeks  go  by " 

BO,"  interrupted  Horatio,  softly;  "what's  that  over 
there  on  the  bank  that  looks  like  a  man  all  in  a 
wad?" 
The  little  boy  was  singing  along  through  the 
sweet  Louisiana  afternoon,  putting  into  his  song  whatever  came 
into  his  head:— 

"And  I  turn,  and  I  look,  and  what  do  I  see? 
Someone's  left  his  bundle  by  a  live  oak  tree." 

"What  do  you  suppose  is  in  that  bundle,  Bo?"  asked  the 
Bear,  anxiously. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Old  clothes,  from  the  looks  of  it.  The 
owner  isn't  far  off. 

"When  a  coat  and  vest  and  hat,  and  pair  of  trousers  you  espy, 
You  can  bet  your  bottom  dollar  there's  a  man  close  by." 

Horatio  looked  in  every  direction.  Then  he  walked  over 
to  the  clothes. 

"Why,"  said  Bo,  following;  "I  guess  somebody's  taking  a 
swim.  Come  on,  Ratio.  Remember  the  honey  and  the  or 
anges." 

But  the  Bear  was  curious.  He  picked  up  the  hat  and  set  it 
on  his  head.  Bo  laughed  lazily.  Then  Horatio  laid  down  his 


84  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

violin  and  slipped  one  arm  into  the  waistcoat,  trying  vainly  to 
reach  with  the  other.  Bo  good-naturedly  helped  him.  The 
little  boy  felt  in  the  humor  for  fun,  and  Horatio  looked  too  com 
ical. 

"Better  not  put  on  the  coat,"  said  Bo.  "It  might  not  be 
big  enough  and  if  you  tore  it  the  owner  would  make  us  pay 
for  it." 

But  Horatio  was  excited. 

"Hurry,  Bo!  Help  me  on  with  it.  How  do  I  look,  Bo? 
I  think  I'll  dress  this  way  all  the  time,  hereafter.  Is  my  hat  be 
coming,  Bo?" 

"Oh,  there  was  an  Old  Bear  in  a  hat  and  a  coat," 

sang  Bo>,  but  he  got  no  further,  for  suddenly  close  by  there 
was  a  loud  yell,  and  without  pausing  to  look  behind  Horatio 
made  a  wild  dash  in  the  other  direction,  followed  by  the  little 
boy.     Glancing  back  as  they  ran,  Bo  saw  that  they  were  pur 
sued  by  a  tall  white  man.     He  had  paused  only  a  second  to  slip 
on  his  boots  and  trousers,  and  was  coming  after  them  full  speed. 
In  one  hand  he  carried  a  revolver,  in  the  other  Horatio's  violin. 
"Shed  'em!"  he  shouted.  "Shed  them  clothes  or  I'll  shoot!" 
"Shed  'em!"  echoed  Bo.     "Shed  'em,  Horatio!" 
The  bear  slipped  off  the  coat  and  flung  it  behind  him. 
"Shed  'em!"  shouted  the  man  again,  and  the  waistcoat 
followed. 

"I  won't  give  up  the  hat,  Bo!"  panted  Horatio. 
But  Horatio  was  mistaken,  for  at  that  instant  the  world 
beneath  his  feet  suddenly  opened  and  he  disappeared.  Before 
the  boy  could  check  himself  he  plunged  after  the  Bear  and  was 
struggling  in  the  deep  waters  of  a  bayou  that  came  to  a  level 
with  the  bank  and  was  covered  thickly  and  concealed  by  fallen 
leaves.  Rising  to  the  surface  he  found  Horatio  clinging  to  a 
fallen  tree  and  the  man,  who  had  now  overtaken  them,  holding 


'HOW  DO  I  LOOK,  BO?" 


86  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

out  a  limb,  which  the  little  boy  gladly  seized.  The  hat  had  been 
already  rescued. 

"Well,  you're  a  nice  pair!"  said  their  captor.  "To  run  away 
with  a  man's  clothes  and  then  go  headlong  into  the  bayou  and 
get  his  hat  all  wet !  I'm  glad  you  didn't  have  that  fiddle,  or  you'd 
a-ruined  it.  I've  bin  wantin'  a  good  fiddle  a  long  time,  an'  this 
here  looks  like  a  good  one.  Come  out  o'  that,  now,  an'  we'll 
take  a  walk  up  toward  the  jail.  I  happen  to  be  constable  of  this 
here  community." 

Bo  groaned  as  he  was  dragged  to  shore.  He  did  not  mind 
the  wetting,  for  the  weather  was  warm,  but  now  they  had  lost 
the  violin  and  would  be  taken  to  jail.  Of  course  they  would 
lose  all  their  money.  Perhaps  Horatio  would  be  killed.  The 
Bear  only  blinked  and  shook  himself  when  he  had  been  also 
towed  to  the  bank  and  had  scrambled  out. 

"I  hope  you  won't  take  us  to  jail,  sir,"  said  Bo.  "My  Bear 
was  mischievous,  but  he  didn't  mean  any  harm,  and  I  have  a  lit 
tle  money  I'll  give  you  if  you'll  return  us  the  violin  and  let  us 

go." 

"You  come  along  with  me!"  answered  the  man,  sternly. 
"It'll  take  more  money  than  you've  got  to  pay  your  fine,  an'  as 
fer  that  chap,  we  don't  want  no  bears  roamin'  loose  aroun'  here. 
March  on  ahead  there,  an'  don't  try  none  o'  your  tricks." 

The  constable  cocked  his  revolver,  and  boy  and  Bear  hur 
riedly  started  in  the  direction  of  the  village  that  showed  above 
the  trees  about  a  mile  further  on. . 

Bo  was  afraid  to  speak  to  their  captor  again,  and  as  he  never 
talked  with  Horatio  except  when  they  were  alone,  they  marched 
along  disconsolately  and  in  silence.  Now  and  then  the  man 
strummed  on  the  violin  and  chuckled  to  himself. 

When  they  got  to  the  village  everybody  came  out  to  look 
at  them.  The  man  called  out  his  story  as  they  went  along,  and 


'SHED  THEM  CLOTHES  OR  I'LL.  SHOOT!" 


88  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

the  people  laughed  and  jeered.  Heretofore  the  friends  had  en 
tered  Louisiana  villages  in  triumph.  Now,  for  the  first  time, 
they  came  dishonored  and  disgraced.  Poor  Horatio  looked 
very  downcast.  He  knew  that  he  was  to  blame  for  it  all. 

When  they  got  to  the  court  room  they  found  that  the 
Justice  of  the  Peace  was  away  fishing,  so  they  were  lodged  in 
jail  for  the  night.  It  was  only  a  little  one  room  affair,  with  two 
small  iron-barred  windows,  quite  high  from  the  ground.  Boys 
climbed  up  and  looked  through  these  windows  and  threw  stones 
and  coal  in  at  Horatio,  who  huddled  in  a  corner.  By  and  by  the 
officer  came  with  a  plate  of  supper  for  Bo.  He  drove  the  boys 
away  and  left  the  friends  together.  There  was  no  supper  for 
the  Bear,  so  the  little  boy  divided  with  him. 

"Bo,"  said  Horatio,  tearfully,  "it  was  my  fault.  They'll  let 
you  go,  and,  and — I  hope  they'll  give  you  my  skin,  Bo." 

Then  they  went  to  sleep. 

*  *  * 

Early  next  morning  there  was  a  crowd  around  the  jail.  The 
Justice  had  returned  and  the  people  wanted  to  see  the  fun.  The 
friends  were  hustled  into  court  by  the  constable,  the  crowd 
stepping  back  to  let  Horatio  pass.  The  justice  was  rather  a 
young  man  and  had  a  good-natured  face,  which  made  Bo  more 
hopeful.  But  when  they  heard  the  constable  make  his  charge 
against  them,  both  lost  heart.  They  were  accused  of  stealing 
and  damages  and  a  lot  of  other  things  that  they  could  not  un 
derstand.  The  Justice  listened  and  then  turned  to  the  prison 
ers. 

"What  have  you  to  say  for  yourselves?"  he  asked,  looking 
straight  at  Bo.  At  first  the  little  boy  tried  to  speak  and  could 
not.  The  court  room  was  still — every  one  waiting  to  hear  what 
he  was  about  to  say.  All  at  once  an  idea  came  to  him. 

"Please,  sir,"  he  trembled,  "if  you  will  let  my  Bear  have 
the  violin  we  will  plead  our  case  together." 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  89 

"What  violin?  What  does  the  boy  mean?"  asked  the  Jus 
tice,  turning  to  the  constable. 

"Oh,  an  ole  fiddle  they  dropped  when  they  took  my  clothes. 
I  lef  it  down  't  the  house  this  morning." 

Bo's  heart  sank.  It  was  their  only  chance.  He  was  about 
to  give  up  when  suddenly  there  came  another  gleam  of  hope, 
though  very  faint.  Wheeling  quickly  toward  the  sorrow  strick 
en  Bear  he  shouted: — 

"Perform  for  them,  Horatio !    Perform!" 

The  words  acted  on  Horatio  like  a  shock  of  electricity.  He 
straightened  up  with  a  snort  that  caused  the  crowd  to  fall  back, 
knocking  each  other  over  like  dominos.  Then  he  made  a  bound 
into  the  open  space  and  stood  on  his  head.  Then  with  a  spring 
backward  he  landed  on  his  feet,  and  waved  a  bow  to  the  Justice! 
Another  bound  and  he  was  walking  on  his  hands  and  then,  after 
another  bow  to  the  Court,  he  turned  a  series  of  somersaults  so 
rapidly  that  he  looked  like  a  great  wheel !  When  he  landed  on 
his  feet  this  time,  and  bowed  once  more  to  the  Court,  the  crowd 
broke  out  into*  a  mighty  cheer  of  applause. 

"Order !"  shouted  the  Justice.     "Order !" 

It  grew  still,  and  the  little  boy  looked  at  the  Court  anx 
iously. 

"Please,  Your  Honor,"  he  said  humbly,  "that's  our  case." 

"Case!"  roared  the  Justice.  "Well,  I  should  say  that  was  a 
case  of  fits  and  revolution." 

At  this  the  crowd  cheered  again  until  they  were  rapped  to 
order  by  the  Court. 

"I  sentence  you,"  he  said  solemnly,  and  looking  sternly  at 
Horatio,  "to  sudden  and  disagreeable  death!" 

He  paused,  and  Horatio  staggered  against  Bo,  who  was 
very  pale. 

"To  sudden  death,"  continued  the  Court,  "if  I  catch  vou 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  91 

running  off  and  falling  in  the  water  with  any  more  of  my  offi 
cer's  clothes.  And  I  now  fine  you,  for  the  first  offense,  a  per 
formance  on  the  common  for  the  whole  town!  Court  is  ad 
journed!  Show  begins  at  once!  Constable,  bring  that  fiddle!" 

With  a  wild  shout  the  people  poured  outside.  Many 
scrambled  over  each  other  to  get  near  Bosephus  and  the  won 
derful  Bear,  and  when  the  violin  was  brought  and  the  show  had 
begun  every  soul  in  the  village  was  gathered  on  the  common. 

That  night,  when  all  was  over,  the  little  boy  and  the  Bear 
were  the  guests  of  the  Justice,  who  owned  a  fine  plantation  ad 
joining  the  village.  During  the  evening  he  had  a  long  talk  with 
Bo,  and  seemed  greatly  impressed  with  the  little  boy's  natural 
ability  and  shrewdness.  When  they  parted  next  morning  he 
said : — 

"Remember,  if  you  ever  feel  like  giving  up  travel,  come 
back  here  and  I'll  send  you  to  school  and  college  and  make  a 
man  of  you." 

"I'll  remember,"  said  Bo,  as  they  shook  hands.  A  crowd 
had  gathered  to  see  the  travellers  off.  The  constable  was 
among  them,  and  as  they  disappeared  around  a  bend  in  the  road 
he  waved  and  shouted  with  the  rest. 

"Bosephus,"  said  Horatio  gravely,  "I  hope  you  don't  think 
of  deserting  me.  Remember  how  many  close  places  I  have 
helped  you  out  of.  This  last  was  a  little  the  closest  of  all,  Bo 
sephus,  and  I  shudder  to  think  where  you  might  have  been  to 
day  if  it  had  not  been  for  me." 

"That's  so,"  said  the  little  boy  solemnly.  "I  don't  suppose 
they'd  have  even  given  me  your  skin,  Ratio." 


CHAPTER  X 


AN  AFTERNOON'S  FISHING 

"Sitting  on  a  bank  where  the  bull  frogs  dream- 
Sitting  on  the  shore  of  a  deep,  deep  stream- 
Sitting  on  a  log  and  waiting  for  a  bite- 
Bound  to  catch  our  supper,  if  we  fish— all— night." 


i 


little  boy  was  holding  a  long  cane  pole  that  he 
had  cut  as  they  came  along,  on  the  small  end  of 
which  he  had  fastened  a  hook  and  line,  baited  with  a 
lively  worm.     The  Bear  was  leaning  back  against 
a  tree  and  watching  him  lazily. 

"Bo,"  said  he  presently,  "I  shouldn't  wonder  if  that  singing 
of  yours  scared  the  fish  all  away." 

"I  wouldn't  say  that  to  you,  Ratio.  I  know  if  you'd  wake 
up  and  take  the  fiddle  and  play  some  they'd  walk  right  out  on 
the  bank." 

The  Bear  laughed  sleepily.  He  was  in  a  comfortable  posi 
tion  and  the  warm  afternoon  sun  was  soothing.  He  hummed 
some  negro  lines  he  had  heard : — 

"When  yo'  wan'  to  ketch  fish  yo'  mus'  jes'  set  an'  wait- 
When  yo'  wan'  to  ketch  fish  yo'  must  spit  on  yo.'  bait- 
When  yo'  wan'  to  ketch  fish  yo'  mus'  git  across  de  tide, 
For  dey's  alw'ys  bettah  fishin'  on  de  oth— ah— side." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you  were  right,  Ratio,"  assented  Bo, 
anxiously.  "It  does  look  better  over  there,  only  there's  no  way 


The  Arkansaw  Bear 


93 


to  get  across  except  this  slippery  looking,  rotten  old  log,  and  I 
don't  feel  much  like  trying  that." 

"Walk  out  on  it  a  little  way,  Bo,"  said  Horatio,  getting  in 
terested,  "and  throw  your  line  over  there  by  that  cypress  snag. 
That  looks  like  a  good  place." 

Bosephus  rose  cautiously,  and,  balancing  himself  with  the 
long  cane  pole,  edged  his  way  a  few  inches  at  a  time  toward  the 
middle  of  the  stream,  pausing  every  little  way  to  be  sure  that 
the  log  showed  no  sign  of  yielding.  He  could  swim,  but  he  did 
not  wish  for  a  wetting,  and  besides  there  were  a  good  many  alli 
gators  in  these  Louisiana  waters  and  some  very  fierce  snapping 
turtles.  He  had  heard  the  negroes  say  that  alligators  were  par 
ticularly  fond  of  boys,  and  that  snapping  turtles  never  let  go  till 
it  thundered.  He  had  no  wish  to  furnish  supper  for  an  alligator 
and  there  were  no  signs  of  a  thunder  storm.  Hence  he  ad 
vanced  with  great  prudence.  When  he  had  nearly  reached  the 
centre  Horatio  called  to  him. 

"Try  it  from  there,  Bo!  Your  line's  long  enough  to 
reach!" 

The  little  boy  steadied  himself  by  a  limb  that  projected 
from  the  log  and  swung  his  line  in  the  direction  the  Bear  had 
indicated.  Then  he  waited,  holding  his  breath  almost,  and  watch 
ing  his  float,  which  lay  silently  on  the  water.  Horatio  was 
watching,  too,  with  half  closed  eyes,  and  now  and  then  giving 
instructions. 

"Pull  it  a  little  more  to  the  right,  Bo — nearer  that  root/' 
he  whispered. 

Bosephus  obeyed,  but  the  float  still  lay  silently  on  the 
water. 

"Draw  it  a  little  toward  you,  Bo;  sometimes  when  they 
think  its  going  away  they  make  a  rush  for  it." 

Again  the  little  boy  did  as  directed,  but  without  result. 


94  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

"Lift  out  your  bait  and  see  if  it's  all  right.  Now  fling  it 
a  little  further  toward  the  bank." 

Bo  lifted  out  the  bait,  which  was  still  lively  and  untouched, 
and  flung  it  far  over  toward  the  other  shore.  Then  he  wait 
ed  in  silence  once  more,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  even  so  much 
as  a  nibble. 

"Oh,  pshaw,  Ratio!"  he  said  at  last  impatiently.  "I  don't 
believe  you  know  anything  about  fishing.  Either  that  or  there 
are  no  fish  in  here — one  of  the  two." 

He  had  turned  his  head  toward  the  Bear  as  he  spoke  and 
was  not  looking  at  his  float.  All  at  once  the  Bear  sat  straight 
up,  pointing  at  the  water. 

"Your  cork's  gone !"  he  shouted.  " You've  got  one !  Pull, 
Bo,  pull!" 

The  little  boy  turned  so  quickly  that  he  almost  lost  his  bal 
ance  and  could  not  immediately  obey.  Horatio  was  wild  with 
excitement. 

"Why  don't  you  pull?"  he  howled.  "Do  you  expect  him  to 
climb  up  your  pole?  Are  you  waiting  for  him  to  make  his  toilet 
before  he  appears?  Well,  talk  about  fishermen!" 

Bosephus  was  struggling  madly  to  follow  instructions.  He 
was  holding  to  the  dead  limb  like  grim  death  and  pulling  fiercely 
at  the  pole  with  one  hand.  The  fish  must  be  a  large  one,  for  it 
swung  furiously  from  side  to  side,  but  could  not  be  brought  to 
the  surface.  Horatio  on  the  bank  was  still  shouting  and  danc 
ing  violently. 

"You'll  lose  him!"  he  yelled;  "you'll  never  in  the  world  land 
him  that  way.  You  ought  to  go  fishing  for  tin  fish  in  a  tub ! 
Just  let  me  out  there;  I'll  show  you  how  to  fish!"  and  Horatio 
made  a  rush  toward  the  log  on  which  Bo  was  standing. 

"Go  back!  Go  back!"  screamed  the  little  boy.  "It  won't 
hold  us  both!"  But  the  Bear  was  too  much  excited  by  this  time 


"PULL,  BO,  PULL!" 


96  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

to  heed  any  caution.  He  hurried  to  the  centre  of  the  log  and 
seizing  the  pole  from  Bo's  hand  gave  a  fierce  pull.  The  fish 
swung  clear  of  the  water  and  far  out  on  the  bank,  but  the  strain 
on  their  support  was  too  great.  There  was  a  loud  cracking 
sound,  and  before  they  knew  what  had  happened  both  were 
struggling  in  the  water. 

"Help!  Help!"  howled  Horatio.    "I'm  drowning!" 

"Hold  to  the  end  of  the  log!"  shouted  Bo.  "I'll  swim 
ashore  and  tow  you  in  with  the  pole!" 

He  struck  out  as  he  spoke  and  in  a  few  strokes  was  near 
enough  to  seize  some  bushes  that  overhung  the  water.  Sud 
denly  he  heard  Horatio  give  forth  a  scream  so  wild  that  he 
whirled  about  to  look.  Then  he  saw  something  that  made  him 
turn  cold.  In  a  half  circle,  a  few  feet  away  from  where  Horatio 
was  clinging  to  the  end  of  the  broken  log  for  dear  life,  there  had 
risen  from  the  water  a  number  of  long,  black,  ugly  heads.  A 
drove  of  alligators! 

"Bo!  Bo!"  shrieked  the  wretched  Bear.  "They're  after 
me!  They'll  eat  me  alive — skin  and  all!  Save  me!  Save  me!" 

The  little  boy  swung  himself  to>  the  shore  and  dashed  up  the 
bank.  His  first  thought  had  been  to  seize  the  fishing  pole  and 
with  it  to  drag  Horatio  to  safety.  But  at  that  instant  his  eye 
fell  on  the  violin.  He  had  learned  to  play  very  well  himself  dur 
ing  the  last  few  weeks  and  he  remembered  the  night  of  the 
panther  dance  in  the  Arkansaw  woods.  He  snatched  up  the  in 
strument  and  struck  the  bow  across  the  strings. 

"Sing,  Horatio!"  he  shouted.  "It's  your  turn  to  sing!"  and 
Bosephus  broke  out  into  a  song  that  after  the  first  line  the 
Bear  joined  as  if  he  never  expected  to<  sing  again  on  earth. 


"Oh,  there  was  an  Old  Bear  went  out  for  a  swim. 
And  the  alligators  came  just  to  take  a  look  at  him, 


'OH,  THERE  WAS  AN  OLD  BEAR  WENT  OUT  FOR  A  SWIM.' 


The  Arkansaw  Bear 


And  the  Bear  was  glad  to  see  'em,  and  he  wanted  them  to  stay, 
And  he  sang  a  song  to  please  'em  so  they  wouldn't  go  away." 

As  the  music  rolled  out  on  the  water  there  rose  to  the  sur 
face  another  half  circle  of  dark  objects.  The  Bear  shut  his  eyes 
and  his  voice  grew  faint.  They  were  snapping  turtles. 

"Stop,  Bo!"  he  wailed.  "It's  no  use.  It  only  brings  more 
of  'em,  and  new  kinds." 

"No,  no;  go  on,"  whispered  Bo,  who  had  crept  down  quite 
to  the  water's  edge.  "Now — ready !  sing !" 


"Then  'tis  'Gator,  Alligator,  we  expect  to  see  you  later, 
If  you  really  have  to  leave  us— if  you  can't  remain  to  tea- 


Then  'tis  Turtle,  Mr.  Turtle,  you  will  notice  we  are  fertile, 
In  providing  entertainment  for  our  com— pa— nee." 

New  arrivals  appeared  constantly  until  the  water  and  logs 
and  stumps  by  the  water's  edge  were  alive  with  listening  crea 
tures.  Still  remembering  the  panther  dance  the  boy  called  in  a 
whisper  to  Horatio: — 

"Softly  now;  sing  it  again." 

They  repeated  the  song,  letting  their  voices  and  music 
gradually  blend  into  the  whispering  of  the  trees.  Bo  sang  with 
closed  eyes,  but  the  watching  Bear  saw  the  listening  circle  of 
heads  sink  lower  and  lower  so  gently  that  he  could  not  be  sure 
when  the  water  had  closed  over  them.  From  roots  and  logs  and 
stumps  dark  forms  slid  noiselessly  into  the  stream  and  disap 
peared.  The  music  died  away  and  ceased.  Horatio  looked  at 
the  little  boy  eagerly. 


"HELP!    HELP!" 


ioo  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

"Quick,  the  pole,  Bo,"  he  called  softly.    "They're  all  gone." 
A  moment  later  he  was  holding  on  to  the  cane  pole  with 

teeth  and  claws  and  being  towed  to  shore.    As  he  marched  up 

the  bank  he  picked  up  the  large  fish  that  was  still  flopping  at  the 

end  of  the  line. 

"Very  fine,   Bosephus,"  he  said,  holding    it    up.     "You 

wouldn't  have  had  that  fish  for  supper  if  it  hadn't  been  for  me, 

Bosephus." 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE    ROAD    HOME 

"Going  back  to  Arkansaw  as  fast  as  we  can  go- 
Never  mind  the  winter  time — never  mind  the  snow, 
For  the  weather's  not  so  chilly  as  the  Louisiana  law, 
And  we'll  feel  a  good  deal  safer  in  the  Ar— kan— saw." 

IT  had  happened  in  this  way.  The  afternoon  before 
Christmas  had  come  and  the  little  boy  and  the  Bear 
had  been  talking  over  a  Christmas  dinner  for  the 
next  day. 

"Bosephus,"  Horatio  had  said,  "we  must  have  something 
extra.  I  should  like  a  real  old-fashioned  dinner.  One  such  as 
I  used  to  have;  but,  of  course,  that  is  all  over  now."  And  there 
was  an  untamed,  regretful  look  in  his  eyes. 

"Ratio,"  said  Bo,  "we  have  got  a  lot  of  money — nearly 
two  hundred  dollars.  We  can  afford  to  have  something  good. 
I  will  buy  a  duck  and  a  turkey  and  maybe  some  pies.  We'll 
take  a  holiday  and  eat  from  morning  till  night,  if  we  feel  like  it." 
The  Bear  smiled  at  this  thought  and  touched  the  strings 
of  the  violin. 

"Oh,  we'll  buy  a  tender  turkey,  and  we'll  buy  a  youthful  duck, 
And  some  pies,  perhaps,  and  cookies,  and  some  doughnuts,  just  for  luck, 
And  we'll  take  our  Christmas  dinner  where  the  balmy  breezes  stray, 
And  we'll  spread  it  in  the  sunshine  and  we'll  eat — all — day." 

Suddenly  he  paused  in  his  singing  and  listened.  They 
were  coming  out  into  an  open  space  and  there  was  a  sound  of 
a  voice  speaking.  Somebody  was  talking  in  a  foreign  language 
that  Bo  did  not  understand,  but  the  Bear  trembled  with  eager 
ness. 


IO2  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

"Bo,"  he  whispered,  "that's  Italian.  That's  the  way  my 
first  teacher  talked.  The  one  that  abused  me — and  died." 

The  Bear  licked  out  his  tongue  fiercely  at  this  memory  and 
pushed  forward  into  the  open,  the  little  boy  following.  As 
they  stepped  out  where  they  could  see,  Bosephus  uttered  an 
exclamation  and  Horatio  a  snort  of  surprise.  By  the  roadside 
sat  a  dark-browed,  villainous-looking  Italian  and  before  him 
stood  a  miserable  half-starved  bear  cub,  which  he  was  trying  to 
teach.  He  would  speak  a  few  words  to  it  and  then  beat  it 
fiercely  with  a  heavy  stick.  The  little  bear  cowered  and  trem 
bled  and  could  not  obey.  Horatio  gave  a  low  dangerous  growl 
as  Bo  held  him  back.  The  Italian  turned  and  saw  them. 

"What  are  you  beating  that  cub  for?"  asked  Bo,  sternly. 

The  Italian  looked  at  him  evilly. 

"Maka  him  grow  an'  dance  an'  playa  fid,  lika  yo'  bear,"  he 
said,  sullenly.  "Soa  he  maka  da  mun'." 

"That  won't  do  it.  You  can  teach  him  better  with  kind 
ness.  Throw  that  stick  away.  Aren't  you  ashamed  of  yourself." 

"Minda  yo'  own  biz,"  was  the  insolent  reply. 

The  little  boy  saw  that  it  would  not  be  safe  to  stay  there 
any  longer.  The  cub  was  whining  pitifully  and  Horatio  was 
becoming  furious.  He  turned  away,  the  Bear  following  reluct 
antly.  When  they  had  gone  perhaps  a  half  a  mile  Horatio 
paused. 

"Let's  camp  here,"  he  said.  "This  is  a  nice  place  and  I'm 
tired." 

Bosephus  was  tired,  too.  The  day  before  Christmas  with 
its  merry  preparation  had  been  a  big  day  among  the  plantations 
and  the  friends  had  reaped  a  harvest. 

"All  right,  Ratio,"  he  said,  and  they  made  preparations 
for  the  night,  though  it  was  still  quite  early. 

"Bo,"  said  the  Bear,  reflectively,  "Christmas    always    re- 


'MAKA  HIM  GROW  AN'  DANCE  AN'  PLAY  A   'FID' 


104  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

minds  me  of  when  I  was  a  little  cub  like  that  poor  little  fellow 
we  saw  back  yonder.  I  was  a  Christmas  present — by  accident." 

"A  Christmas  present  by  accident!     How  was  that?" 

"It  was  this  way.  I  was  always  brave  and  adventurous, 
as  you  know.  My  folks  lived  in  a  very  large  tree  and  were  all 
asleep  for  the  winter  except  me.  I  stayed  awake  so  as  to  run 
away  and  see  the  world.  Well,  I  started  out  and  I  travelled 
and  I  travelled.  It  was  all  woods  and  I  lost  my  way.  By  and 
by  I  got  very  tired  and  climbed  up  into  a  thick  evergreen  tree 
to  rest.  I  suppose  I  went  to  sleep  and  some  men  who  were 
out  hunting  for  a  Christmas  tree  must  have  picked  out  mine 
and  tied  the  limbs  together  tight  with  cords  and  cut  it  down. 
Then  I  suppose  they  must  have  carried  me  home  and  set  the 
tree  up  in  its  place  and  untied  the  cords,  for  the  first  I  knew 
I  was  tumbling  out  on  to  a  carpet  in  a  big  room,  and  a  lot  of 
children  were  screaming  and  running  in  every  direction.  I  was 
bigger  and  some  fatter  than  that  cub  we  saw  with  the  Italian — 
poor  little  fellow. 

"I'd  like  to  talk  to  that  villain  about  five  minutes  alone," 
continued  Horatio,  grimly.  "I'm  sure  I  could  interest  him.  I'd 
tell  him  about  the  man  that  used  to  beat  me,  and  I  might  give 
him  an  imitation  of  what  happened  to  him,"  and  the  big  fellow 
rose  and  walked  back  and  forth  in  excitement. 

"But  go  on  with  your  story,  Ratio ;  what  happened  to  you 
after  you  fell  out  of  the  Christmas  tree?" 

"Oh!  the  children  tamed  me  and  fed  me  till  I  got  so  big 
they  were  afraid  of  me,  and  then  I  ate  up  some  young  pigs  and  a 
calf  and  went  away." 

"You  ran  away,  you  mean.     What  happened  then?" 

"Well,  I  wrent  quite  a  distance  and  fell  in  with  a  circus.  I 
learned  to  dance  there  and  stayed  with  them  a  while.  But  one 
day  the  young  ibex  came  in  to  see  me  and  they  couldn't  find 


The  Arkansaw  Bear 


105 


anything  of  him  after  that  except  his  horns,  and  seemed  sus 
picious  of  me,  so  I  went  away  again." 

"Oh,  Ratio!" 

"Yes;  I  travelled  and  changed  about  a  good  deal  till  by  and 
by  I  fell  in  with  the  Italian  who  promised  to  teach  me  to  play 
the  violin,  and  he  did  teach  me  some,  as  you  know,  but  he 
wasn't  kind  to  me,  so  I — I  wore  mourning  for  him  a  while,  and 
went  away  again.  Then  I  met  up  with  you,  and  you  taught  me 
the  second  part  of  our  tune,  and  we  went  into  partnership  and 
I  reformed,  and  we've  been  together  ever  since.  We've  been  in 
some  pretty  close  places  together,  Bosephus,  but  I've  always 
managed  to  pull  us  through  safely,  and  you  have  behaved  very 
nobly,  too,  at  times,  Bosephus — very  nobly,  indeed." 

"Are  you  sure  you  have  reformed,  Horatio?" 

Horatio  swung  the  violin  to  his  shoulder  and  drew  the  bow 
across  the  strings.  Then  he  sang  softly: — 


V 

"Oh,  there's  some  folks  say  a  nigger  won't  steal, 
But  I  caught  one  in  my  corn-fiel'. 


And  there's  other  folks  say  that  a  Bear  will  tame, 
But  I  wouldn't  trust  him  with  my " 

he  hesitated,  and  then,  with  a  final  flourish, 

"with  my  money  all  the  same." 

The  little  boy  laughed.  The  Bear  seemed  to  have  forgot 
ten  the  cruel  Italian  and  was  in  his  usual  good  humor. 

"I  think  I  can  trust  you,  Horatio;  I'm  not  a  bit  afraid  of 
you." 

"Bo,"  said  Ratio,  speaking  suddenly,  "speaking  of  Christ 
mas  trees,  we  ought  to  have  one.  I  saw  a  beautiful  one  up  the 


106  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

stream  yonder.     I  think  I'll  go  and  get  it,  if  you'll  look  after 

the  supper  while  I'm  gone." 

"Why,  yes,  Horatio,  only  don't  be  long  about  it." 
Horatio  struck  the  violin  with  a  long  vigorous  sweep. 

40 


"Oh,  we'll  have  a  tree  for  Christinas  in  this  Louisiana  isthmus, 
Where  the  orange  trees  are  waving  and  the  jasmines  are  in  bloom; 


And  I'll  have  a  Christmas  dinner,  if  I  don't  I  am  a  sinner, 
And  I'll  eat  it  if  it  sends  me  to  my  doom — doom — doom." 

Bo  laughed  again.  He  had  never  seen  Horatio  in  a  better 
humor. 

"If  you  eat  too  much  pie  it  may  send  you  to  your  doom — 
doom — doom,"  he  said.  "Hurry  back,  now,  with  that  tree.  You 
can  pull  it  up  by  the  roots  and  we'll  plant  it  again  here.  Then 
it  will  keep  right  on  growing." 

The  bear  set  out  up  the  stream  and  the  boy  busied  himself 
with  building  a  fire  and  taking  out  of  a  sack  a  lot  of  food  that 
had  been  given  them  by  the  planters  during  the  afternoon.  He 
spread  this  on  the  leaves  and  moss  and  then  sat  down  and  gazed 
into  the  bright  blaze.  It  was  pleasant  and  warm  and  he  was 
quite  tired.  After  a  while  he  wondered  sleepily  why  the  Bear 
didn't  come  back,  and  concluded  he  was  having  a  hard  time 
pulling  up  the  tree.  Then  he  began  thinking  of  all  the  adven 
tures  they  had  had  together  and  of  the  little  cub  bear  and  the 
cruel  Italian. 

"I  was  tempted  to  let  Horatio  at  him,"  he  thought.  "A 
man  like  that  should  be  beaten  until  he  couldn't  stand.  That 
poor  little  creature!  How  wistfully  he  looked  at  us.  He  kept 
whining — perhaps  he  was  telling  Ratio  something." 


The  Arkansaw  Bear 


107 


The  little  boy's  head  nodded  forward  now  and  then  and 
presently  he  slept.  He  slept  soundly  and  the  moments  flew  by 
unheeded.  He  was  having  a  long  dream  about  old  man  Todd 
and  the  girls  and  the  two  candy  hearts,  when  suddenly  there 
arose  close  at  hand  such  a  commotion,  such  a  mingling  of  ex 
cited  language,  fierce  snarls  and  crashing  of  brush  that  the  little 
boy  leaped  to  his  feet  wildly. 

''Ratio!"  he  shouted.    '''Ratio!  where  are  you?" 

The  only  answer  was  the  redoubled  fury  of  the  furious  up 
roar,  which  Bo  now  located  at  the  edge  of  the  road  but  a  few 
feet  away.  He  tore  through  the  brush  hastily  in  that  direction. 
As  he  reached  the  spot  the  turmoil  ceased  and  he  heard  the 
sound  of  running  feet.  Dashing  through  into  the  road  he  be 
held  a  strange  sight.  A  half-naked  man  was  disappearing  over 
the  hill  just  beyond,  and  Horatio,  holding  some  rags  of  clothing 
in  one  hand  and  the  paw  of  the  little  bear  in  the  other,  was  look 
ing  after  him  hungrily,  as  if  about  to  pursue.  Before  him  lay 
the  Christmas  tree  badly  broken  and  bruised. 

"Ratio!"  exclaimed  Bo.    "What  have  you  been  doing?" 

The  Bear  looked  at  Bo  sheepishly. 

"I  went  for  the  Christmas  tree,"  he  said,  meekly,  "and  just 
as  I  was  coming  back  the  Italian  man  came  along,  and  he  was 
beating  this  little  chap,  and  so  I  tried  the  Christmas  tree  on 
him  to  see  how  he  liked  it.  Then  we  got  into  an  argument,  and 
when  he  went  away  he  left  the  cub  with  us  and  didn't  take  all 
of  his  clothing." 

The  little  boy  reflected  a  moment. 

"I  hope,  Horatio,"  he  said,  gravely,  "you  did  not  mean  to 
break  your  agreement  about,  you  know — about  dinners." 

"I  didn't,  Bo;  honest,  I  didn't.  I  wouldn't  touch  that  fel 
low  if  I  was  starving.  But  I  did  pretty  nearly  break  his  neck, 
Bo,  and  I'm  glad  of  it!" 


GOING   BACK  TO  ARKANSAW. 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  109 

"Ratio,"  said  Bo,  solemnly,  "it's  very  wrong,  I  suppose; 
very  wrong,  indeed;  but  I'm  glad,  too.  Only  we've  got  to 
postpone  that  Christmas  dinner.  That  fellow  will  be  back  here 
to-night  with  officers,  and  we've  had  all  the  law  we  want.  We 
start  for  Arkansaw  in  five  minutes.  A  bite  of  supper  and  then 
right  about!  ready!  march!" 

And  this  was  the  reason  Horatio  and  Bosephus  and  the 
little  cub  bear  were  travelling  swiftly  northward  in  spite  of  the 
winter  weather  that  was  not  yet  over.  The  cub  was  small  and 
weak  and  Horatio,  who  loved  him  and  sometimes  called  him 
"little  brother,"  often  carried  him.  They  gave  no  perform 
ances,  but  only  pushed  forward,  mile  after  mile,  chanting  sol 
emnly  : — 

"Going  back  to  Arkansaw  as  fast  as  we  can  go- 
Never  mind  the  winter  time  and  never  mind  the  snow, 
For  the  weather's  not  so  chilly  as  the  Lou'siana  law, 
And  we'll  feel  a  good  deal  safer  in  the  Ar— kan— saw." 


HORATIO   WAS    LOOKING   AT    HIM   HUNGRILY. 


CHAPTER  XII 


THE  BEAR  COLONY  AT  LAST.     THE  PARTING 
OF   BOSEPHUS    AND    HORATIO 

"Oh,  the  wind  blows  fair  and  the  snow  is  gone 
In  the  Arkansaw  when  the  spring  comes  on. 
Oh,  the  sun  shines  warm  and  the  wind  blows  fair, 
For  the  boy  and  the  cub  and  the  Old— Black— Bear." 

SO  sang  Bosephus  and  Horatio*  as  they  sat  side  by 
side  in  the  doorway  of  a  deserted  lumberman's  cabin 
in  the  depths  of  an  Arkansaw  forest.  The  cub  res 
cued  from  the  brutal  Italian  and  brought  with  them 
on  their  hasty  journey  out  of  Louisiana,  stood  a  few  feet  away 
watching  them  intently.    Now  and  then  he  made  an  awkward 
attempt  at  dancing,  which  caused  Bosephus  and  Horatio  to  stop 
their  music  and  laugh.    He  had  grown  fat  and  saucy  with  good 
treatment,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  the  amusement  he  caused.    At 
a  little  distance  behind  him,  some  seated  and  some  standing,  and 
all  enjoying  the  entertainment,  were  seven  other  bears  of  vari 
ous  sizes.    The  colony  so  long  planned  by  Horatio  and  Bose 
phus  was  established. 

The  long  journey  out  of  Louisiana  had  been  made  rapidly 
and  with  no  delays.  Though  midwinter  when  begun,  the  weath 
er  had  been  beautiful  at  the  start,  and  there  had  been  few  storms 
and  but  little  cold  since.  The  cub  had  gradually  confided  his 
story  to  Horatio,  who  loved  him  and  continued  to  call  him  af 
fectionately  "little  brother."  He  had  been  captured  in  a  very 
deep  woods,  he  said,  by  hunters,  who  sold  him  to  the  Italian. 


1 1  2  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

He  did  not  know  where  these  woods  were,  but  as  the  friends 
crossed  the  Louisiana  line  and  entered  lower  Arkansaw  he  grew 
more  and  more  excited  every  day,  for  he  declared  these  were 
so  like  his  native  woods  that  he  could  almost  hear  his  mother's 
voice  crooning  the  evening  lullaby.  Soon  after,  they  came  one 
evening  upon  a  deserted  lumberman's  camp  and  took  possession 
of  the  one  cabin  that  still  remained.  It  was  a  good  shelter  and 
there  was  a  stream  with  fine  fish  in  it  close  at  hand.  But  when 
the  friends  awoke  next  morning  the  little  bear  was  gone. 

They  were  very  sorry,  for  they  had  grown  much  attached 
to  the  little  chap  and  he  had  seemed  to  be  fond  of  them  also.  It 
was  very  lonely  in  the  deep  forest  without  him.  Horatio  sighed. 

"He  didn't  appreciate  us,  Bo,"  he  said,  sadly.  "He's  gone 
back  to  be  a  wild  bear.  He  never  got  the  taste  of  men — tastes, 
I  mean,  and  I  suppose  these  woods  made  him  homesick.  They 
are  like  my  old  woods,  too,  and  I  get  homesick  sometimes — 
even  now."  Then  the  boy  and  the  Bear  went  to  the  brook  to 
fish  and  the  day  passed  gloomily. 

But  that  night,  when  Bo  had  built  a  fire  in  the  big  fireplace 
which  almost  filled  one  end  of  the  cabin,  and  was  cooking  the 
fish,  there  came  a  muffled  scratching  sound  at  the  door.  Ho 
ratio  sprang  to  his  feet  instantly. 

"That's  Cub,"  he  said,  excitedly. 

The  boy  ran  to  the  door  and  opened  it.  Sure  enough,  the 
little  cub  stood  before  him,  and  out  of  the  darkness  behind 
gleamed  seven  other  pairs  of  eyes.  The  boy  was  brave,  but  as 
he  saw  that  row  of  fiery  orbs  he  felt  his  flesh  creep  and  his  hair 
began  to  prickle. 

"Horatio!"  he  called,  softly,  "come  quick." 

The  Bear  was  already  by  his  side,  and  a  moment  later  with 
the  cub  stepped  out  into  the  night.  Then  Bosephus  heard  low 
growls  followed  by  a  strange  commotion,  which  he  at  first  took 


THE  POOR  BEAR  GAVE  WAY  COMPLETELY. 


IX4  The  Arkansaw  Bear 

to  be  the  sound  of  fighting.    Suddenly  Horatio  ran  to  him  in 
great  excitement. 

"Bo,  Bo!"  he  exclaimed,  "it's  my  family!  and,  oh,  Bose 
phus,  it's  Cub's  family,  too!  We're  really  brothers,  and  we  didn't 
know  it !"  Then  he  ran  back  into  the  dark  and  presently  returned 
with  the  cub  and  the  seven  other  bears,  following.  The  new 
comers  stared  and  blinked  at  the  little  boy  as  they  entered  the 
lighted  cabin  and  then  withdrew  to  a  darker  corner,  where  they 
sat  silently  regarding  everything  that  passed,  like  strangers 
from  the  country.  The  cub  sat  with  them  and  whispered  softly, 
in  the  bear  tongue,  and  Horatio  now  and  then  went  over,  too, 
and  no  doubt  told  them  marvellous  tales  of  his  strange  adven 
tures.  Late  that  night  all  lay  down  to  sleep — the  little  boy  in 
the  arms  of  his  faithful  friend. 

And  so  the  Bear  Colony  had  begun,  even  sooner  than  Bo 
and  Ratio  had  expected,  and  they  had  given  up  all  notion  of 
travelling  any  further.  The  lumber  camp  was  deserted  for  good 
by  the  woodcutters,  for  the  largest  trees  had  been  cut  out  and 
taken  away  long  before.  The  cabin  was  headquarters — Bose- 
phus  was  president,  Horatio  prime  minister,  and  the  cub,  be 
cause  of  his  adventures  and  slight  educational  advancement,  was 
chief  assistant.  Early  spring  was  upon  the  land,  and  the  woods 
were  beginning  to  be  sweet  with  song  and  blossom.  Bosephus 
was  almost  afraid  at  first  that,  with  the  native  woods  and  the  re 
newal  of  home  ties,  Horatio  might  return  more  or  less  to  his 
savage  instincts,  but  he  became  gentler  and  more  docile  than 
ever.  His  place  as  prime  minister  and  chief  instructor  made  him 
realize  his  advancement  and  the  importance  of  good  behavior. 
He  was  grave  and  dignified,  and  about  the  fire  in  the  evening, 
played  the  violin  with  an  air  of  skill  and  superiority  that  was 
very  impressive.  Bosephus  at  first  enjoyed  it  all  immensely. 
The  bears  were  obedient  and  submissive,  and  were  gradually 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  115 

learning  to  understand  his  language.    He  had  more  money  than 
he  would  ever  need  and  was  lord  of  all  he  surveyed. 

But  gradually  there  came  a  change.  He  grew  tired  of  see 
ing  only  the  black  faces  and  shining  eyes  of  his  subjects  and  of 
hearing  only  the  singing  of  bees  and  birds.  At  first  he  did  not 
realize  what  was  the  matter.  Then  it  came  to>  him  at  last  that 
this  life  of  the  forest  was  palling  upon  him  and  that,  like  the  cub, 
he  yearned  for  his  own  kind — the  faces  of  men. 

One  morning  he  divided  up  the  money  into*  two  equal  parts 
and  slipped  out  to  where  Horatio  was  sunning  himself  and  play 
ing  softly  before  the  cabin. 

"Horatio,"  he  said,  tenderly,  "I  have  divided  up  the  money. 
Here  is  your  half.  You  have  been  the  best  friend  I  ever  had  and 
it  breaks  my  heart  to  leave  you,  but  I  can't  live  away  from  my 
own  race  any  longer.  I  am  going  back  to  Louisiana,  to  the 
planter  who  told  me  to  come  back  and  he  would  send  me  to 
school  and  college  and  make  a  man  of  me,"  and  then  the  little 
boy  suddenly  broke  down  and  fell  weeping  into*  his  companion's 
arms. 

For  some  moments  Horatio  could  not  speak.  Then  he 
spoke,  sobbing  between  every  word. 

"Bo — Bo* — you — you're — not — not  going  to — to  leave 
me!  Oh,  Bo!"  and  the  poor  Bear  gave  way  completely  and 
wept  on  the  little  boy's  shoulder.  They  were  all  alone,  as  the 
others  had  gone  out  together  for  a  walk.  At  last  Horatio  put 
the  boy  gently  from  him  and  took  up  his  violin.  He  began  to 
play  very  softly  and  sang  in  a  breaking  voice: — 

"Oh,  he's  going  away  to  leave  me  to  the  Lou'siana  shore, 

And  I'll  never  see  my  darling,  my  Bosephus,  any  more; 

He's  divided  up  the  money,  and  he's  going  far  away, 

And  my  poor  old  heart  is  breaking  but  he  —will— not— stay. 

We  have  battled  with  the  weather— we  have  faced  the  world  together— 

Never  caring  why  or  whether— never  minding  when  or  where — 

But  he  says  we  now  must  sever— happy  days  are  done  forever, 

For  Bosephus  and  the  fiddle  and  the  Old— Black— Bear!" 


'FELL    WEEPING    INTO    HIS    COMPANION'S    ARMS. 


The  Arkansaw  Bear  117 

An  hour  later  Bo  was  wending  his  way  southward  through 
the  sweet  spring  woods  alone.  In  his  inner  breast  pocket  was 
stored  every  dollar  the  friends  had  earned  together. 

"I  will  never  need  it  now,  Bo,"  Horatio  had  said  at  parting, 
"and  you  will  need  a  great  many  times  as  much.  Take  it  and 
sometimes  think  of  your  far  off  faithful  Ratio."  And  then, 
after  one  long  embrace,  they  had  parted.  And  now  the  little 
boy  was  trying  to  keep  up  courage  to  carry  out  what  he  had  un 
dertaken.  At  every  turn  in  the  path  he  was  tempted  to  return 
and  throw  himself  in  Horatio's  arms.  But  he  pressed  on,  hop 
ing  to  arrive  at  some  sort  of  habitation  for  the  night,  which  he 
did  not  like  to  pass  alone  in  the  woods. 

"Poor  old  Ratio,"  he  thought.  "He  will  be  happier  with 
his  own  people  after  a  while.  And  perhaps  he  will  really  civilize 
them."  He  turned  and  cast  one  long  look  in  the  direction  of 
the  colony  which  he  could  no  longer  see.  Then  facing  about 
again  he  hurried  forward.  About  a  mile  further  on  he  paused 
at  a  little  brook  for  a  drink.  He  was  bending  over  the  water 
when  he  heard  a  sudden  crashing  in  the  bushes  behind  him.  He 
started  up  instantly  and  seized  a  heavy  stick  that  lay  close  at 
hand.  Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  tearing  through  the  brush, 
like  some  heavy  animal  in  fierce  chase.  The  boy  stepped  out 
of  the  path  to  let  the  creature  pass,  and  then,  all  at  once,  he 
gave  a  cry  of  joy  and  surprise.  Headlong  out  of  the  bushes, 
stumbling  and  rolling  at  his  feet,  with  tears  streaming  from  his 
eyes  and  violin  under  his  arm,  was  Horatio. 

"Bo,  Bo!"  he  cried.  "I  couldn't  stand  it.  I'm  going  with 
you.  That  kind  planter  will  give  me  a  place  to  stay,  I  know,  and 
maybe  if  he  sends  you  to  college  he'll  let  me  go,  too.  I  could 
play  for  the  college  boys,  Bo,  and  help  pay  your  way.  Don't 
send  me  back,  Bo!  Don't  send  me  back!" 


n8 


The  Arkansaw  Bear 


Bo  embraced  him  silently. 

"Why,  of  course  not,  Ratio,"  he  said  at  last,  "but  I  thought 
you  wanted  to  have  a  colony  of  your  own  people." 

"I  did,  Bo,  but  I  have  turned  it  over  to  Cub.  He  can  take 
care  of  it.  Like  you,  Bo,  I  have  been  civilized  too  long  to  live 
away  from  men!  And,  besides,  Bo,  you  need  me  to  protect 
you."  Horatio  recovered  his  dignity  at  this  point  and  con 
tinued,  gravely,  "You  are  brave  and  noble,  Bosephus,  but  you 
need  some  one  near  you  who  is  ever  ready  to  face  any  danger. 
Let  us  sing  now,  Bosephus,  as  we  travel  onward." 

And  with  a  joyful  scrape  of  the  strings  and  a  sweet  burst 
of  melody  the  friends  set  their  faces  once  more  to  the  South. 


"Oh,  there  was  a  little  boy  and  his  name  was  Bo, 
Went  out  into  the  woods  when  the  moon  was  low, 


And  he  met  an  Old  Bear  who  was  hungry  for  a  snack, 
And  the  folks  are  still  waiting  for  Bosephus  to  ccme  back. 


"For  the  boy  became  the  teacher  of  this  kind  and  gentle  creature, 
Who  was  faithful  in  his  friendship  and  was  watchful  in  his  care, 


And  they  travelled  on  forever  and  they'll  never,  never   sever, 
Bosephus  and  the  fiddle  and  the  Old— Black— Bear." 


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BOOK 


NEW  YORK      R.  H.  RUSSELL     PUBLISHER 


